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letsbenditlikebennett · 8 months

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TIMING: Beginning of September PARTIES: @kadavernagh & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: When Regan finds out that Alex was shot and refuses to go to a hospital, the medical examiner finally, and after much exasperation, tells her to come by the morgue to get her wound checked out. CONTENT: Self harm

The whole way over to the morgue, Alex reasoned with herself that this was a better call than going to a hospital. She was pretty sure that hospitals had to report gunshot wounds and the new additions would likely raise more questions than she truly wanted to answer. She’d toyed around with the idea of not going to the morgue at all, but after the full moon hit, that wasn’t really an option unless she wanted to tell Kaden she’d all but beat herself up in the bunker and opened her own stitches.

Of course, it wasn’t quite that simple. The restless energy that had coursed through the werewolf the previous night was There had been no sitting still after she’d gone through all of her prey and was left with a suffocating, empty bunker. Somehow that energy manifested in the form of an itch she couldn’t quite scratch and an inability to sit still. The scrapes, scratches, and bruises that painted her limbs had been evidence last night’s full moon had been anything but normal. She wasn’t sure what Dr. Kavanagh would make of it, but what was important was that Kaden was none the wiser. Alex knew her cousin would find a way to blame himself for it somehow.

The morgue had that clean chemical smell to it as she made her way toward Regan’s office. Even the chill in the air felt pretty standard for what the facility was meant for. Alex didn’t think keeping dead bodies in a hot building would be fun for anyone involved. Something about the death made her a little uneasy considering the role it had been playing in her life lately, but this was a doctor’s visit… which somehow was not any better. She waved uncertainly toward the receptionist. “I’m here to see a Dr. Kavanagh?”

The call from Marcy was expected though not entirely welcome. “There’s a young lady here to see you. She limped in. I’m pretty sure she’s not dead yet, so I don’t know why she’s asking for you. You ever going to explain that to me? While you’re at it, if you’re seeing live patients, can you check out a mole on my shoulder?” Regan shuffled through the list of possibilities in her head and landed on precisely who this must have been. Kaden’s child cousin. Alex. Possibly with a bullet in her body. The thought was a wave of ice and reminded her to steel herself. She had seen far worse in the living and especially in the dead, and her equanimity could not waver.

In the lobby, there was once again only one possibility of who was there to see her. Regan wished for not the first time that she could shed this cinniúint-thréigean coat. “Come.” She didn’t look at the child beyond the flash of red hair she’d caught in the corner of her eye, though she wanted to observe her. The chilly reception (or at least chillier than usual) was petty, she knew, but the morgue was not a hospital, and it was maddening that the Langley family seemed to treat it like one. Kaden was putain enough. Now there were two.

“Cad tá mé ag dul a dhéanamh leat?” Regan found herself muttering a question Cliodhna had muttered herself on a near daily basis, regarding her granddaughter with worn resignation. Regan had understood the question to really mean, “what good are you?” when it had been directed at her. Outside her office, she finally turned to meet the child’s eyes. She was young, but the tight expression on her face – masking pain, Regan thought – and dotting of scrapes and contusions across her skin suggested she was older than her years. Regan’s eyes narrowed, though not unkindly. She carded the door open. “Sit down, explain everything to me, and give me a very good reason why I should not be sending you to the hospital.”

The medical examiner was not a particularly large woman, but the way she moved around and commanded respect made her seem larger than life. It made Alex feel smaller than she already was, which was pretty damn small considering she’d been the same height since she was like eleven years old. She supposed she also shouldn’t have been thrown off by the cold way the doctor addressed her either, but something about it still made her wince and hold on tighter to the edges of the flannel she had all but wrapped around herself at that point. Dr. Kavanagh wasn’t even overly harsh. Her eyes definitely weren’t cruel, the werewolf just already felt exposed. Ashamed. Because hadn’t she been taught to tend to her own wounds like Andy and Kaden had?

“Hospitals are for humans,” Alex answered as if it was obvious. It was a show, but not a very good one. Her fingers fumbled over the hem of the green plaid and she knew she’d need to give a better answer than that. This had been a bad idea, but the full moon had only made things worse. “Kaden mentioned the mutated animal thing. When I was shot, I didn’t look like a person. I look like one now… but I’m still not.”

The word monster was practically at the tip of her tongue, but Alex wasn’t sure that one wouldn’t get her carted right off to the hospital. She wasn’t entirely sure how much Regan knew, but some of her oddities seemed to indicate she should know something. Especially considering she probably saw some pretty strange deaths. She shifted nervously on her feet and only slightly cringed when the movement caused pain. “Uh,” she started, “Everything… well, I was… mutated. And someone shot me. Then the full moon happened and I lock myself in a bunker so mutated me doesn’t…”

She looked down at her feet. Alex couldn’t even speak what she knew she was capable of. “Think I had a bit of a panic attack while mutated,” she mumbled, not quite meeting Dr. Kavanagh’s eyes as she rolled up her sleeves to show various bruises, scrapes, and scratches, “My cla– nails get really long. That’s the uh… scratches.”

What were the odds the doctor would buy that one? It was the truth, but the truth was often harder to believe than a really good lie.

“They are, yes, and I’m not about to do any procedures that couldn’t be done on a human.” Regan rolled her eyes. Why did everyone think they were some exception to going to the hospital? Why people thought they weren’t human was another question, but one Regan knew she wasn’t going to move the needle on. “Just as morgues are for humans, by the way. But for whatever reason you find this more palatable, and I just want you examined by someone.”

But with some recent context, Alex’s explanation made Regan’s thoughts immediately turn to Gael. This sounded like… what was it he’d called it? Wolfitis? No, lycanthropy. Did the two of them know each other? That question made her brow crease. Regan wasn’t sure she liked that, especially if this child was one of the people trying to spoon feed him all of this strange terminology, all of these lies. Gael had mentioned precisely this, though – someone who had locked themselves in a bunker and injured themselves in there.

Other questions cascaded from there. If Alex was shot because of this… mutation, and she had the same illness as Gael, could this have been the individual Gael was warned about, the one targeting people with this specific health condition? That was a sobering thought.

Regan realized she had been silent for some time. She gave the child a nod and stretched her gloves over her hands. The girl was nervous, almost trembling, and she had never been great at putting people at ease. Though Regan suspected some of it was that Alex was talking to a doctor about any of this at all. Perhaps she could help ameliorate that fear. “I might be familiar with your condition.” Regan looked down at her then took a seat across from the girl. She knew she’d need to be on her feet shortly, but she had learned in interacting with next of kin and patients that they felt more comfortable on the same level. “My condolences that you are afflicted. I am close to someone who–” With a jolt, she comprehended what had come out of her mouth, and she cleared her throat, wiggled uncomfortably in her coat. “I have an acquaintance who may have the same ailment. He handles it differently than you.” Regan waved a hand as if to dismiss any talk of Gael. Her stomach felt like a hot pit. Acquaintance was correct. Fearg an chinniúint, why had she not said that first?

As Alex rolled up her sleeves, it at least gave Regan something else to focus on. Something comfortable, something she knew. Something that wouldn’t dip into the unfamiliar territory of acquaintance-plus relationships. Regan surveyed the girl’s skin. Alex was pretty scraped up, pretty bruised, but Regan didn’t see anything demanding her attention. She spoke after a moment, not rudely, but also not dancing around the point. “We both know I’m not interested in seeing minor incised wounds on your extremities. Will you show me the gunshot wound?”

“Palatable,” Alex murmured, “Right…” She wasn’t exactly sure she considered this trip to the morgue palatable. If it hadn’t been for the way she chewed at her wound during the full moon, she wouldn’t be here at all despite the fact Dr. Kavanagh had practically demanded she come get checked out if she wasn’t going to a hospital. There was also no way in hell that Alex was willingly going to a hospital, so here she was at the morgue, letting Regan in all her tame exasperation check out the re-opened stitches that she refused to show Kaden. She wondered if doctor-patient confidentiality applied here because she’d really rather this not get back to Kaden, but Alex wasn’t so sure she should be pushing her luck here.

Nerves made it hard for Alex to look up and meet the medical examiner’s eyes. Instead, her gaze wandered over the half packed boxes that were strewn across the office. She remembered Regan vaguely speaking of leaving when she had offered up those books, but that had felt like a whole lifetime ago.

“You are familiar with it,” Alex perked up. It was hardly an admission that the doctor believed in the supernatural, but at least she thought it was plausible. Maybe that meant she didn’t think Alex was completely insane. “How does he handle it,” she asked, genuinely curious. Given her own debacle with the bunker this month, she knew she had to be open to ideas even if she wasn’t sure they’d actually be good ideas.

It wasn’t surprising to Alex that the medical examiner wanted her to get right to showing her the worst of her injuries. The gunshot wound was why she was here and why Regan was frustrated with her for not seeing a doctor at a hospital. Still, she swallowed nervously as she pulled down the hem of the cargo pants she was wearing to reveal where the bullet had grazed her left hip. The stitches looked about as chewed through as they were and fresh blood had dried up around it. Even looking at it made her feel light-headed and she cursed herself. “Uh, this is it. Do I…” She trailed off, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She couldn’t recall ever having gone to an actual medical professional.

“I’ll tell you about it shortly,” Regan said, knowing what lay ahead better than Alex, and knowing she’d be grateful for the distraction. “For now, just stay still.” She gave the site a careful look, as one might assess the virtues of a renowned painting in an art museum. To her, there was beauty in such an ugly thing. But the fact it was on a live human being tainted such a lovely show of anatomy. It was immediately clear that Alex should have gone to a hospital. But the wound could have been much worse, all things considered; the bullet had grazed her, not hitting bone or even really leaving a full entry wound. But any bullet at any distance could be lethal, or disfiguring at a minimum, and Regan was sure this one had caused great pain.

And then there was the attempt to fix this. The sutures were chewed up, mangled, almost as bloodied a sight as the wound they were poorly tethering closed. They couldn’t have started off that way (even if they were poorly-applied then, too). It looked like an animal had done this. She was sure Alex wouldn’t give her the truth as to how this happened, even if perhaps she thought she was giving it. There was one other remarkable thing: the bubbling blisters surrounding the margins of the wound, as if the bullet that struck her had also burned her skin. It was true bullets were heated as they were fired, this appeared to be something more. Like her skin had rejected the material of the bullet. She thought of her own hands, scarred with iron discipline, and a connection was sparked only to be swiftly rejected. Alex was not fae.

Regan hissed a breath of air through her teeth and finally turned up and away from the wound, looking Alex in the face. “The good news is that there’s no sign of an infection. But… well, first of all, you need new stitches, which means removing the current ones, which will hurt considerably. I apologize in advance.” Alex wouldn’t want to be standing for that. And her wiggling would make things harder. Regan sighed, her eyes flicking over the table. At what point did it make sense for her to invest in a procedure chair for her office? That would be a fun one to explain to the higher ups. For now, she made due with pushing the table directly up against one of the chairs. It was a sturdy thing. It would hold. “Can you lie down on there? I’m going to apply new ones after I remove the old. Do you think you can keep still?”

“Appreciate it,” Alex responded kindly, “And I can manage that.” It might make her light-headed and nauseated, but she could sit still through the pain. Her parents had made certain of that even if she had never been graced with the accelerated healing to go along with the hunter training. It didn’t change the way her heart felt like it was pounding in her ears rather than her chest. She almost wished Dr. Kavanagh would explain now and put off the inevitable, but the wound the silver bullet left behind was the reason she was here. With how she chewed through the stitches, she wasn’t even sure it was in a state Kaden could deal with and she didn’t want him to. He’d only worry and that protective streak he had would only grow.

Alex chewed at her bottom lip nervously as she watched Regan move one of the tables up to a chair. The office wasn’t set up for patients of the living variety which made sense considering it was a morgue. Somehow, that still seemed better than a hospital and the inevitable questions they would ask. Not that Regan didn’t have questions, but she seemed to consider the possibilities of mutants. Werewolves were kind of mutants, just not the superhero kind like Phoenix and Cyclops.

“Kind of figured,” she nodded, “Both on the new stitches and the pain. It’s fine.” It was not fine. As she sat down in the chair, she already felt the sweat begin to pool in her palms and across her brow. If her lip hadn’t gone right back to its place between her teeth she was fairly certain it would also be quivering. Even if she wore a brave face, Regan was a doctor. Physiological evidence would tell her everything she needed to know and it brought the werewolf a great deal of shame. If it wasn’t so damn sad, it’d almost be laughable that a monster was shaking in her boots over a medical examination. She laid down on the table and something about the fluorescents shining down made her want to crawl out of her skin again, but she was sure to stay still as a log. “Ok, I’m ready when you are,” she breathed out through gritted teeth.

Regan worked swiftly and adeptly. And though Alex was shaking, she did eventually seem to calm herself down. It was easier once the worst was over – removing what remains of the old stitches. Putting the new ones in was easy by comparison, though Alex still wouldn’t appreciate the feel of the needle on what was still a rather raw wound. She wasn’t great at distracting patients during procedures – usually any distraction would fall on dead ears – but she would try. “That acquaintance I mentioned. He… camps.” That hardly sounded like a solution at all, saying it aloud. She wondered if it would sound just as foolish to Alex. “It might not be precisely the same ailment you’re dealing with. I don’t know if you sleepwalk. But he seems to think that things are better when he camps, rather than being confined to his bedroom.” Either way, though, Gael seemed to wake up with blood under his fingernails and a dead animal carcass or two nearby.

As she finished up the last of the stitches, she seemed to grow heavier. Camping was helping. She wasn’t sure she could say the same anymore, given that Gael was attacked by some animal last time. Almost fatal. The maddening man thought he was lucky that the creature had just missed clamping down on his spine, but Regan didn’t believe in luck, and even if she did, what was lucky about almost dying? “I’m not suggesting you camp in the woods,” Regan clarified, “It didn’t go so well for him last time. There are too many dangerous animals lurking about. Bears. Coyotes. Screaming moose.”

While the explanation did little to clarify anything for Alex, listening to the medical examiner talk was a welcome distraction to the increasingly unbearable pain in her hip as the wound was tended to. Some of it sounded vaguely familiar. If asked, she would probably tell those who weren’t in the know about werewolves that she was going to be camping that night. It was close enough to the truth, hiking out deep into the woods to turn into wolf-monster and eat dinner/sleep was basically camping, was it not? The sleepwalking bit was curious and made her wonder if Gael was her acquaintance. “Camping,” she said through gritted teeth, “Wanted to give that a try myself.”

There were more questions, but none came to mind as Alex made a concentrated effort to remain still and keep her limbs from trembling. It worked well enough for her legs, but her hands were shaking under the sleeves of her jacket ever so slightly. So she let the thought of further questioning go until Regan finished up the last of the stitches. Even then, she needed a moment to recover and only barely caught the doctor saying that she didn’t recommend camping.

“Not worried about coyotes and bears,” Alex explained, “Could live without the screaming moose, though I’ve never actually seen one scream.” It didn’t seem like the point. She knew Dr. Kavanagh was pointing out the dangers that lurked in the woods, but even with the context of her having some sort of mutation, she didn’t think the doctor realized that she was one of the dangers in the woods if she was out there. “Mutation kind of,” she trailed off, unsure of how to explain it, “Gives me some protection there. And me being deep out in the woods is a lot safer for everyone else. Mutation is… weird.”

It’d be a lot easier to just say werewolf, but Alex wasn’t too sure how well that one would fly. “But you mentioned sleep-walking… the person you know doesn’t happen to be a chemistry professor, does he?”

“Do you know who else thought they could deal with the coyotes and bears?” Alex probably saw where this was going but Regan continued anyway. “At least a hundred of my decedents, probably more. And I haven’t even worked here a full year yet.” Regan sometimes needed to remind herself that she had nothing to fear from anything, that no wild animal could harm her, but most people were the opposite; they held more confidence than they had the right. “Whatever capabilities you have were not enough to protect you from your assailant, nor whatever chewed you up after.” Nor Gael, from the animal that almost took his life last time he went camping. Speaking of… did Alex know?

Yes, she knew Gael. And now Regan couldn’t help but wonder if the mutated child in front of her was one of the scores of individuals who had been trying to convince Gael he was a werewolf. Something clenched in her chest, and she itched with discomfort. Caring was such a bothersome thing. She kept her voice stoic so as not to betray that Alex was correct. “Rather inappropriate to try and figure out which individual I’m referring to, don’t you think?” She raised a brow as sharply as the needle and finished up the last of the sutures. “Fortunately for you, I will not fault nosiness, as I exhibit plenty of my own. But you won’t get your answer from me.” If she wanted to ask Gael, that was her prerogative. For a second – a second too long – she entertained how Gael might refer to her as something other than an acquaintance, and the thought made bile bloom in her stomach.

“There. You are done.” Regan rose to her feet and gave Alex a self-satisfied look. “Now, are you going to tell me why you allowed an animal to chew on your first set of stitches? Because I don’t want a repeat of that. You will not enjoy that, either.” Regan had a feeling Alex would either tell her nothing at all, or make up some outlandish story involving werewolves and vampires and ghosts. She had to wonder if a doctor in the ED would have been able to coax out the truth, or at least more of the truth than Regan could get. The dead were more honest, every time.

When it came to Wicked’s Rest, coyotes and bears were the least of her worries. Even though most bears had considerable size on Alex they still didn’t stand much of a chance against a werewolf. Maybe if grizzlies were in the area, she’d be slightly more concerned, but as it stood, the standard wildlife of Maine seemed safer than literally ripping herself apart in the bunker. It seemed like the extent of her ‘mutation’ wasn’t exactly clicking with the medical examiner though and she wasn’t even sure how to explain her choice to camp in a way that would make sense. “Well, still safer than the alternative,” she shrugged, “And that was different. Someone like him would have found me anywhere… and nothing chewed through my stitches.”

Not that she was sure that Regan would believe her. Alex was a bit more on the monstrous canine side when she had in fact chewed through her stitches. That wasn’t nothing, that was just herself having a little werewolf panic attack in a bunker. Even if she had the energy to explain following having her stitches removed and replaced, it wasn’t like there was an explanation that most would find reasonable… hence, why she hadn’t gone to a hospital.

Though she was quickly reminded of the medical nature of her visit when Regan shut down her question about Gael. When most of the patients were dead, Alex thought it was easy enough to forget about the whole patient/doctor confidentiality thing… but she was alive. Gael was also alive. “Right,” she stammered, looking down in embarrassment, “Forgot the whole doctor patient confidentiality thing… Only heard of it in theory, never in practice.”

Given, Alex hadn’t actually ever been to a normal doctor. At least Dr. Kavanagh wasn’t going to hold her question against her. The delivery was still cold, but there was something of understanding in it too. Even though cold sweat still clung to her skin, she smiled, “It’s scientific curiosity. We both like to understand things… and okay, maybe a little bit of it is nosiness.”

Of course, the question of what happened to her stitches came and the truth was Alex didn’t have a good explanation. Even if she hadn’t done it to herself, the state of her injury did in fact imply she let something do this to her. But Regan talked about mutations… maybe she could hint at the truth. She ran a sweaty palm through her tangled hair and looked down at her lap. “I didn’t let anything chew through them,” she answered nervously, “I was locked in a bunker alone. I did this to me… while I was sleepwalking.”

“And I’ll grant you the same privacy… mostly.” Regan had already decided she’d make an exception and tell Kaden about this. They were cousins. And from where she was standing, Kaden was the responsible adult, the one who should have insisted that Alex be placed in front of an emergency room physician. But the man was too stuck in his own phobia to help her. Oh, yes, she certainly had some words for him. Náireach bórd.

Sleepwalking. There it was. Her thoughts turned to Gael once more, and an exhausted sigh swelled in her lungs. At this point, both Alex and Gael were viewing reality through such distorted lenses she wasn’t sure which of them was correct about any aspect of this illness. “Lycanthropy,” she could rule out. But short of that, anything else was on the table. And unfortunately, it wasn’t an autopsy table. That would be too easy. Regan rolled her gloves off and discarded them, keeping her eyes on Alex. “That isn’t physically possible. You can’t chew through something on your hip. I have never known anyone to be that flexible. If you’re going to argue otherwise, then I ask that you show me right now.” But that would not happen, she was sure of it. “And if you were asleep, how do you know what happened?” Regan raised a brow, a moment of triumph settling over her face before she realized the unknown still loomed.

She also realized that, sometimes, there was no winning. Regan sighed, her shoulders tensing. Briefly, she considered extending a hand to Alex to help her off the chair, but she had already removed her gloves. “How does it feel? Is your movement alright?” She gave Alex a sharp look. The commanding eye of a doctor who knows patients will almost always act against medical advice. “Be good to your hip. No vigorous exercise for at least eight weeks. Light exercise is acceptable after four. Keep the site clean. Tell me if it begins to smell like an infection or leak fluids.” Her gaze softened, only slightly. “I do not have lollipops. They would have given you one at the hospital. Go there, next time.”

Mostly. Alex wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what that meant, but she hoped it meant that Kaden wasn’t going to find out about her stitches being chewed through. He knew something was up and realistically she knew she could only avoid it for so long. Kaden was a stubborn pain in the ass like that. No matter how hard she tried to push, he kept being there. Almost annoyingly so, but that was more her frustration than anything else. So instead of getting clarification, she simply shrugged. She couldn’t get an answer she didn’t like if she didn’t ask the question. It was a sound philosophy as far as she was concerned.

“Some people call it that, yeah,” Alex mumbled. It wasn’t like she could exactly prove her point. Even if she had mastered shifting outside the moon, it wasn’t like she was going to turn into a large wolf monster in the middle of the damn morgue. With how seriously Regan took her job, she was pretty sure the doctor would not be even remotely chill about an animal in her otherwise pristine office. Part of her wished Regan could understand, she wanted the doctor to believe her, but she wasn’t going to push. Instead, she shrugged. “Like this jacket too much to ruin it.”

Alex stood up from the chair and grimaced slightly. Even if she wanted to, vigorous activity was definitely not on the table. She let out a pained laugh. “Think I can manage skipping the heavy physical activity. But noted on all of the above,” she paused, “I appreciate you taking the time to fix the stitches back up.” Then, there was something a little less cold in Dr. Kavanagh’s gaze, but she was fairly certain that was wishful thinking. Still, the ‘not joke’ was humorous. “Yeah, yeah,” she shook her head as she headed toward the door, “Think I’m a little old to bribe with lollipops… but sentiment is noted and appreciated.”

Was she ever going to willingly go to a hospital? Not a chance. Alex figured if she had more than one conversation ever with Kaden, the doctor probably already knew as much. She figured she could at least try to keep herself out of trouble so that word of an injury didn’t get back to Regan again.

#wr regan #self harm tw #threads; with regan #threads; with regan; no lollipops in the morgue #wickedswriting #(never been a natural all i do is try try try) ;; writing #(the moonlight's blinding) ;; season 1 writing

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translationandbetrayals · 8 months

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Demons and depression: mental health in Ao no Exorcist

Introduction

Mental illnesses are not pretty. That’s a fact. They are debilitating and overwhelming and they make your life hell.

I have seen multiple people asking for realistic and raw depictions of mental health issues in the media, yet when they actually get it, more often than not they do not have an understanding of it past surface level nor try to offer empathy. And it’s sad, honestly, because I think we need less sanitized portrayals of the times when your brain is against you.

Whenever I think about poor mental health done right in animanga, I think about Okumura Yukio, one of the main characters in Katou Kazue’s Ao no Exorcist. Every single time, he will pop into my head.

When I started reading the manga in 2021/2022, after finding my way back to Ao no Exorcist following my first encounter with it in 2017 pre Kyoto saga, I was immediately drawn to his character like a moth to a flame. There were layers upon layers to his arc and misadventures, and I thought it was beautiful because of how ugly it was.

Imagine my surprise, however, when I started seeing online discussions and found out that people not only misunderstood—or just straight up didn’t try to understand—his arc, but were actively hating on him. I got whiplash, honestly, because to me it was nothing short of amazing.

Who is Okumura Yukio?

Yukio is one of the sons of the Demon King, Satan. He is a fraternal twin to Rin, who is the oldest of the two and the only one who inherited satanic powers, also known as the blue flame.

He is shown as a calm and collected person, despite his young age, and he’s been quite successful. He is the youngest exorcist in the history of the Knights of the True Cross, a world-wide exorcist organization, and a highly skilled fighter.

However, there are dark emotions manifesting within him, and a lot of them that have surfaced after Father Fujimoto, their guardian and previous Paladin of the organization, passed away protecting Rin.

[ Manga spoilers ahead. :) From after the Impure King arc. ]

Demons and depression

Yukio is depressed. Like, severely. And it’s been brewing since before Rin’s power was unleashed or Shirou passed away, like a time-bomb set into motion since the moment he was old enough to grasp the world around him.

It shows subtly at the beginning: bitter comments towards his brother, exhaustion, lack of drive… and it makes sense, honestly, because not only was he completely orphaned, he was also thrown into the workforce at the young age of 15. Before he could drive or buy a pack of cigarettes, he was already a teacher at the cram school on top of being a high school student and a teenager—which, let’s be honest, is already hard and also kind of sucks. And who wouldn’t be depressed after being caught by capitalism and not being able to afford lunch in the school where you live, study and work at? I know I would be.

And things only go downhill from there. After always feeling inferior to everyone around him and constantly going through medical check-ups to make sure he was “normal”, to make sure he hadn’t inherited the blue flame, he realizes he is not, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. He couldn’t fathom the idea of letting the Knights of the True Cross or his brother know, and because of that he projects his insecurities onto him—because accepting Rin’s demonic side would mean accepting himself, and he can’t unless he is completely sure. Slowly but surely, he begins to isolate himself.

Before you realize it, Yukio becomes obsessed, and it’s scary to see how human and crude the process is. His curiosity is both his greatest strength and his worst weakness, and when he tries to discover by any means necessary what the blue flame coming from his eyes is all about or what his heritage actually is, he starts to lose himself. He begins to be consumed by the desire to become stronger and to satiate the lingering question about his existence.

He grows apathetic, as he tries to achieve his objectives no matter how far off the deep end he goes. He stops caring about his friends, about his brother and himself, and so he becomes imprudent in plenty of ways. The only things that keep him somewhat sane are his obsessions, as it’s the only fuel he has to keep going—it’s his reason for existing.

He is grasping at straws and there’s nothing he can do to help his situation. He had vowed to keep his somewhat incompetent older brother safe from those that wanted to take advantage of him and also from his own power, making that his mission and basically his reason to exist—but then Rin became strong enough to take care of himself despite his recklessness and his lack of knowledge, and that tore Yukio’s world apart even more than it already was. Once again, Yukio found himself without a purpose.

As he tries to test how far will his demonic eyes protect him, he becomes suicidal. Time and time again, he tries to put an end to his life through different means—from jumping off very high from the ground, to risking his safety by exorcizing demons all on his own, to kneeling down on the ground with a gun against his head and ready to pull the trigger.

Yukio becomes reckless as well, going way too far to get the answers he desires—he points a gun at his own friend/student, violently pins his first friend to the ground to shut her up and puts a gun against her head, intimidates the people who had raised him, and shoots his own brother in the face to get him out of the way. He grows desperate to know and he hopes to die trying.

He also has no sense of identity or personhood. He’s always Rin’s brother or Rin’s next guardian, or the protégée of the Paladin, or a teacher at the Academy, and so on and so forth. But who is Yukio as an individual? He doesn’t know. And he can’t even begin to comprehend it because he has no idea of where he comes from.

He knows he is one of Satan’s bastard sons, the weak one, but he knows nothing about how their mother came to birth them or why they ended up in Shirou’s care, and no one is offering him any answers. In fact, it is explicitly stated that what he has to come to terms with is the present, not the past or the future, but he doesn’t know how to accept the person he is today without knowing the circumstances that made him who he is.

He refuses help. People around him pick up on his weird demeanor and how he hides everything behind a smile, but he refuses to actually let anyone in. Yukio isolates himself from everything and everyone, too depressed to bring himself to care about the things that were once important to him. He pushes everyone so far away from him, they’re afraid they won’t be able to pull him back in.

It is not until a third party reveals everything that was going on with him to Rin—and they have a physical fight—that he is able to start moving on. But the consequences of his actions still linger, haunting him as he tries to make amends. However, despite the state of the world, the future does begin to look brighter for him.

Conclusion

Ao no Exorcist touches upon a lot of topics. Action battles and diligent training, romance, loss, messy family dynamics, friendship, and I could go on and on. It also has a lot of comedic moments, perfectly blending in with the narrative style, making them feel natural and organic. However, when it has to get serious, it does. Katou goes the full nine yards and gets the job done.

If anyone is interested in seeing a realistic portrayal of mental health issues and breakdowns, I fully recommend this story. The tragedy of Yukio is probably one of my all-time favorites.

Francisca Salgado. ☆

#Anime #Manga #essay #submission

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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

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Romanced! Male!Companions react to Sole/Lone/Six being unable to walk the morning after.

I’ve got M!Companions from FO4, FO3, and FONV here, but let me know if you guys want me to include anyone else at all!

Might be just a little NSFW?

;)

Fallout 4 --

Danse:

Danse would feel absolutely horrible. After the initial flush on his cheeks at the mention of sex, his expression would turn to one of devastation. There honestly wouldn't be any sense of satisfaction whatsoever at having hurt you, and he would internally berate himself for not being as attentive to you, and as aware of your reactions as he should've been. That day he would tell you to take it easy and he would be at your constant beck and call in an attempt to make it up to you. He would spend all day beside you, working on cleaning and repairing your weapons and armor, engaging in idle conversation, and maybe listening to the radio. The next time you two are intimate he will be exceedingly gentle with you, and will take extra care to ensure you are more prepared for him before really getting into it.

Deacon:

He would feel really bad to have hurt you enough to impact you like this, but also he would feel just a small twinge of satisfaction at having been able to do so. He'll do his best to take care of you after you tell him about it though, spending the whole day with you in bed, just chatting away, playing little games with you, like “two truths, one lie” or 20 questions and the like. When the time does come for you two to be intimate again, he'll have you take the lead a few times in a row to get an idea of your preferred pacing so he can replicate it better and hopefully not hurt you in the future. But, and he's not particularly proud of this, he will ask your permission to tell some of the others back at HQ what had happened. (He just really just wants to see the look on Carrington’s face, and prove a certain something to Glory about his anatomy. But, of course, he wouldn’t use your name if you didn't want him to. Discretion is this man’s forte, after all).

Hancock:

Is it still considered aftercare if it happens the day after you've had sex? Well, whatever it’s called, Hancock would do all that he can to make up for how he had made you feel. He should know better after all by now, he would feel horrible and try to think back to the way you had reacted to some of his movements in an effort to pinpoint what exactly had hurt you so he could make sure to never do it again. If you wanted chems to numb the pain, he'll surely offer them, and besides that, he'll spend the whole day just looking after you. Holding you close, telling you jokes and stories, making you food, maybe giving you a message, just anything to make you feel better. And when you two are intimate again, he'll be sure to make it up to you. Big time.

MacCready:

Initially, he might feel a distinct sense of pride at having rendered you immobile with his vicious love, but once his brain wraps around the fact that you're actually in pain, he'll feel pretty bad. Maybe not as bad as he should, which he tries to hide, but it's pretty obvious given his little grin he has plastered on his face all day. But he’ll be sure to take good care of you, grabbing snacks and refreshments before curling up next to you with a couple of comic books, really just taking full advantage of the day off. From now on, when the two of you do have sex, he will try to prevent this from happening again by having you be in control for the most part, at least until he learns your body and its limits a bit better. He still might not completely ease up, but he’ll at least make it seem like he’s not as proud of what he’d done as he actually happens to be. And just a heads up, he may just bring up the fact that he was the one who “loved you so hard that you couldn’t walk” at every given opportunity, so just be aware of that.

Nick:

The poor old detective would feel dreadful, this was part of the reason he'd been hesitant to engage in physical acts of intimacy with you in the first place. Even if you assured him it was nothing more than some temporary soreness, he'd have trouble rationalizing being with you intimately for a little while. He would also take an easy day himself so he could keep an eye on you and get you whatever you might need. When you did manage to convince him that you would be okay to have sex again, he would be overly tender and gentle, just to make sure that you know how much your well-being means to him, and to assure you that he would never repeat the actions that had ended up hurting you ever again. As far as he was concerned, he wanted you to wake up feeling good after being with him, to feel satisfied and giddy and maybe just a little tired, but certainly not in pain.

Preston:

Oh lordy, good luck trying to get him to touch you again after he finds out that he hurt you. Initially, his brain would send a little spark of pride to the forefront of his mind when you first told him, but his conscious self would instantly shut it down, disgusted by the fact that it was present at all. He would insist you take the whole day off and would try to keep up on his work while also looking after you in every way possible. You'll really have to work to get him to be with you intimately again anytime soon, as he'll be quite worried about you, and once you do manage to convince him, he'll be extraordinarily gentle and slow. He's very sweet, but you'll have to be patient with him as he pauses with every heavy breath you release, or gasp you take, or moan you utter. Even good noises are scary for him, but don't worry, he'll get back to his usual pace eventually, and now be extra aware of your every reaction to him; which, as it turns out, can be quite handy.

X6-88:

The courser will be conflicted. On the one hand, you were aware that X6’s lovemaking is rough, you've known that from the start, so the two of you wouldn’t be unused to scenarios like this occurring. However, for it to have escalated to physically impairing you enough to prevent you from walking… that made him feel an ache of regret in his chest. Luckily, X6 doesn't miss a thing, and likely will recall which aspects of the night had led to this specific outcome, and he would try to eliminate those factors from future interactions. As for now, he will ensure that you are safe, and as comfortable as possible; he will guard you as you take the day to rest, and will fetch you anything that you require. Normally, when you were hurt, he would recommend paying a visit to the Institute medical facility, but in this case… he would rather try and help you himself if it comes to it. You’re not entirely sure if it’s because he’s embarrassed, or just possessive over certain areas of your body now, but you’d say his crimson cheeks were a bit of a giveaway.

Fallout 3 --

Butch:

On the outside, he would be the prime example of the sympathetic boyfriend. He would apologize and spend the day cuddling with you, playing with your hair, eating snack cakes and drinking nuka cola. On the inside, however, he would feel a certain sense of fulfillment, and would have to consciously hold back the wicked grin that threatened to spill onto his lips at the thought of his lovemaking being wild enough to make it so that you couldn’t walk. He certainly wouldn’t actively try to do it again, but he also wouldn’t necessarily try to prevent it from happening, so just be prepared for anything. But whether or not he’s successful in making you sore again, he’ll fully dedicate himself to caring for you afterwards, ensuring that you’re comfortable and content in his arms at the end of each night.

Charon:

The ghoul can’t say he’s surprised, he did warn you that this might happen, after all. His previous sexual experiences have all been initiated by past employers, so most of them have ranged from pretty negative ordeals to downright violent encounters, and though he'll try to leave that in the past, it's tough for him to let go of it completely since it’s really all he knows. That being said, he will still feel bad about hurting you, and will really try to take more care the next time the two of you are intimate. You'll have to work together on communication and focus more on foreplay in the future, but Charon aims to please, and would never purposefully try to hurt you (unless, of course, if you told him you were into it ;).

Jericho:

He’ll honestly just grin nice and big when you tell him. Sorry. If you wanted tenderness and sympathy, you should probably look into being with someone else. Jericho would consider this to be an achievement on his part, and assure you that this was a sign that the two of you had really done it right. He might complain a bit about having to stay in for the day, but that doesn't mean he won't still take care of you, in his own sort of way. He'll offer you a drink (or a few), or a cigarette (or a whole pack), and would probably just end up falling back into bed next to you and taking a nice, long nap at your side. He wouldn't really promise to change anything the next time the two of you have sex, but he might try to reassure you that it will get easier with more "practice."

Fallout New Vegas --

Arcade:

Oh, he would definitely laugh, because it's a joke. Obviously you're joking with him… right? No!? But-- how? He would be confused by this, and too busy thinking through what he possibly could have done to make you physically unable to walk, to actually address the issue. Once he snaps out of it, he'll ask if you're okay and try to keep his snarky and sarcastic quips to a minimum for the day. As much as Arcade loves giving you a hard time in general, this time he'd be too embarrassed to bring it up. In the event that you do mention it, you'd best be prepared for the pink hue that would adorn, not just his cheeks, nor even his face, but his entire body. When the two of you do have sex again, Arcade will be happy to let you take the lead so you can better control the pacing and keep from hurting yourself at all, (which really is just a win-win scenario, considering the fact that he really prefers you being in control anyway.)

Boone:

His brows would furrow at the news, barely noticeable through his sunglasses, but he would simply set down his rifle and bag and settle back into bed with you. The ex-soldier would curl his arms around you and stay beside you for the remainder of the day, rubbing his arms along your body comfortingly. He’s not big on small talk, but Boone would love to just sit and listen to you ramble all day long. When the evening comes, he’ll be sure to get up and make you both dinner before encouraging you to go to sleep early. Despite his stoic exterior, he's actually quite the tender caretaker. The next time you two are intimate together, he'll consciously focus on being more gentle and controlled with his movements, and certainly won't be shy in making sure you're properly "prepared" for him when he does get a little more rough.

Raul:

Aw, the poor old ghoul would feel horrible about hurting you, the ridge above his eyes would crinkle upwards as he flashed you a sympathetic smile. He'd be a little embarrassed about it as well, feeling like it was rude of him to let his self-control slip enough to have ended up hurting you. He'd take care of you for the day, taking the opportunity to tidy up your living space as he chats with you about anything and everything, telling you stories of his life from before the bombs dropped, teaching you some words in Spanish, and telling cheesy jokes to make you laugh. He would give you a bit of time to recover before agreeing to sleeping with you again, and this time he would suggest either you taking the lead, or using a safe word in case his control started slipping again.

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jasmine-the-fox · 3 years

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Down you go

Before you all read this... I want to make one thing clear to you all (what i’m about to bring up happened on ao3)

Never EVER! Ask me when the next update is going to happen before or after you make a salt request! It’s very rude and I will ignore you and or block you if you do this!

Anyways... Enjoy the salt fic! This request was made by @pinkskeletonsharkdeputy

It had started off as a normal day... Until it went down the hill... Literally, Marinette was having a great day! She had spoken to her girlfriend for a bit this morning which made her happy, then Lila was quiet this morning... Save for a few glares from her classmates, she aced three tests that Lila tried to claim she cheated... Resulting in Lila getting three weeks of detention for false accusations with lack of proof and her girlfriend called her to say she sent her a gift!

And then it went bad...

Turns out that when Mari was at the bakery for lunch (like always) and to see her gift... Lila claimed to the class that Mari pushed her down the stairs to try and make her stay away from her Adrien (even though Mari is a lesbian and she told the class before Lila even came to school) then warned her that if she tried to get near Adrien... She would be in a worse condition then this, she cried and claimed that she was hurting (she had no bruises, no cuts or even a bone either dislocated or fractured) so the class decided to get back at Marinette by making her go through the same thing... Even though Lila lied to them.

Mari got back to school to hear her classmates whispering her name, she thought it was strange but decided to wait and see what will happen next, the day continued with Lila going back to lying in miss Bustier’s class... As it was the only class she could get away with it, Mari completely ignored her and simply focused on using her new tablet that Jasmine bought her as a gift, at one point Caline ordered her to give Lila her supposed “stolen” tablet and apologize (Lila claimed that her mother bought it for her a week ago) problem was... The tablet was a new model that came out three days ago and she only got it this afternoon.

Mari even showed the proof that it only just arrived...

Everyone was quiet at this info... But Lila still lied her way out of it and claimed that she must have believed it was her’s by mistake, the class then went back to ignoring Mari and listening to Lila instead, Mari went back to using the tablet to draw and work on a few personal things that made her smile before saving them to her computer and tablet at home, she packed up as the bell rang and then left the classroom when it happened... Lila purposfully bumped into her and stole her tablet, then as Mari took one step down the stairs.

Alya pushed her to fall down... And the class laughed at her...

They claimed she was trying to be petty when she screamed and cried for help, they claimed she was joking when there was blood and they scoffed as she was placed into the ambulance that miss Mendelieve called, police did a quick investigation and reviewed CCTV footage before taking Alya by for to the station to ask her what she was thinking that would happen after pushing Marinette down the stairs.

Sabine called Jasmine about what happened and the girl rushed over in a panic, when Mari’s bags were handed to them, Tom was shocked when the tablet wasn’t there, police came and it was Jasmine who revealed she had gifted it to Mari... And then revealed it’s last tracked location... Lila Rossi’s bedroom. They rushed over and searched her room to find it in her trash can... Broken, Lila claimed she bought it yesterday and Marinette destroyed it, but Jasmine’s tracker said otherwise, so Lila was arrested for lying to the police, theft and destruction of another’s property... Also was forced to by a new one.

Lila’s mother refused to help her, claimed that Lila was on her own now and instead gave the police permission to search there home and to question Lila fully... Without the rights to a lawyer, Lila was shocked at this but her mother simply left the apartment to go do some shopping... And use her daughter’s money to buy a replacement tablet for Marinette, Lila tried to fight back, claiming she had nothing to do with Marinette being pushed down the stairs... She only stole the tablet... This confused the police since Alya claimed it was all Lila’s idea because Marinette did the same to her.

Lila denied it fully, Marinette never pushed her down any stairs, she admitted that Mari didn’t like her because of her lying disease that causes her to lie about anything and everything... She accidentally got triggered and lied about Mari pushing down the stairs, she tried to tell Alya that it never happened but by then Alya had already pushed her down the stairs, the class was laughing at Mari and claimed Mari was faking it up till she got to the hospital, the two officers now understood that Alya was lying to them... And then Lila continued, she revealed that her teacher, principal, Marinette and her parent’s knew about this... But no one else knew.

This told them everything in an instant...

To make sure Lila had friends, the principal and teacher agreed to keep this info about Lila a secret from the class... Not caring that it might cause problems if someone was accidentally targeted by Lila’s lies, since Marinette was more then likely the main target, the teacher and principal did nothing to stop the class from bullying Marinette... And now they would suffer from there choices, they decided to place an investigation on the two adults, and asked Lila to come to the station to answer a few more questions... Lila agreed while secretly smirking at the fact that she would get away with this by putting the whole blame on Alya.

Meanwhile, Marinette woke up to find her worried parents and a relieved girlfriend, Jasmine helped her to sit up and explained her condition and how long she would stay at the hospital and then at home before even thinking about going back to school, Mari sighed in relief... But then panicked at the fact that she couldn’t find her tablet anywhere “Lila stole it from you, she claimed it to be her’s and you destroyed it but I had a tracker on it just incase, so she needs to buy you a new one” Jasmine explained as she pulled out a new one “Her mother came to drop this off, she explained Lila was to be questioned and went to get it for her daughter” she added making Mari nod as she then turned it on.

“I had it configured to your previous tablet, so you don’t need to set anything up” Jasmine said making Mari smile, she then pulled out the pen and began to sketch, a doctor and police officer came in together, the doctor got to examining her before explaining her whole condition and what she might need to go through, then explained that the Cesaire family will need to pay for all the treatments as it was Alya who caused all of this to happen, once gone, the officer began to question her, Marinette told the officer everything... And by that...

I mean about Lila transferring, her lies beginning, her leaving for a while, her return with more lies, her threat towards Mari, her attempt of getting Mari expelled, her expulsion canceled with Lila claiming she has a lying disease, Lila lying to the class about Mari bullying her and the class turning against her to bully her in return the supposed bullying she caused to Lila...

The officer was shocked by all this information, so much more different from what Lila Rossi and Alya Cesaire reported... The officer could tell that only Marinette Dupain-Cheng will tell the truth in the end, the officer then thanked her and then left to report all of this, Mari relaxed with Jasmine helping her when she could, her parents then left to take care of the bakery, Jasmine waited for a bit before she sighed “I really think you should switch schools... Even if Lila is gone... The class won’t apologize for there actions... They won’t admit to being wrong until they suffer from there actions... And then hope that you will save them” she explained making Mari nod.

For a week she rests in the hospital before being allowed to rest at home, where she stays there for two weeks, during that time Alya told everyone to blame Lila for the whole incident... While Lila cries to her mom as to why Alya would lie and accuse her of causing Mari to be in the hospital... While the police look deeper into Lila Rossi, Jasmine was at Marinette’s side the whole time she was at the hospital and at home... While no one in the class came to visit her, they all believed she was faking it... All the while they got a new principal and teacher after the investigation the police did on the school.

Now all that was left was Marinette’s classmates...

When Mari returned to school, the whole school minus her classmates welcomed her return to school... Some came to visit her to see how she was doing in her recovery, she was happy to have visitors checking in on her like that and Jasmine was relieved that they were so kind towards her girlfriend... But she was worried about her going back to school, because of the fall her legs needed time to recover so she needed some support for them thus she needed a crutch, the school was informed and students were told to help Marinette when they could and to not mess with her crutch.

That didn’t stop her class though...

When she walked into class, Alya was the first to snap at her for cause her parents to get mad at her, how was she supposed to know that the fall was serious, she kept yelling at her until there new teacher came and told her to stop or she would get detention, Alya tried to defend herself but there was nothing she could do about it, she was to blame for forcing her parents to pay Marinette’s medical after Alya pushed her down the stairs... Now she had to face her actions... Not long after class started, the police came to speak with Lila for her lies about everything... And to Alya for attempting to try and blame Lila for everything.

Both girls tried to defend themselves but there teacher forced them to follow, once outside the class, the two girls began to fight... Well if you can call Alya screaming at Lila for causing everything and Lila crying as she tries to defend herself a fight... Then sure, anyways the police didn’t care and forced them to follow them to the station to be once again questioned... When asked why they replied with them needing to help fill out some holes in the story... Both girls agreed... Without knowing that the police caught them right where they wanted them.

Once at the station, there parents watched as the two girls lied about what happened... And never bringing up the past of when it all started when the officer asked about it... They simply acted like the question was never made and continued explaining everything, there parents refused to help there daughter’s and asked that the rest of the class get’s questioned about all of this... Believing there was more to all of this and one of them might be able to help with the whole situation... The police agreed to the request.

And there answer... Was in none other then Adrien Agreste himself...

When he was asked to answer a few questions he agreed... But at the station he claimed to have the whole story on Lila and her actions, they sat down with him and talked... About everything, including the deal he made with her to bring Marinette back from expulsion, the police was shocked and asked if he did anything to help Marinette, he explained that his father ordered him to stay away from Marinette and to make Lila happy... Meaning he had to follow her around, go where she wanted to go and even agree with whatever she said.

The police was furious about all of this, as a result... Lila Rossi, Alya Cesaire and Gabriel Agreste were arrested... For different reasons of course, the rest of the class were given fines while Adrien was sent to London to live with his aunt.

Meanwhile... Marinette transferred schools to be with Jasmine... She changed her number and anything else connecting her to her old class, so even if they tried... None of them but Adrien can contact her.

It was there own fault for going down the way they did...

#miraculous ladybug #lila salt #Salt fic #class salt #lesbian #oc #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Jasmine!oc #marixjasmine #Bustier salt

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aro-is-gay-af · 3 years

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The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader | Part 3

I reckon, that if you’re reading Part 3, then you know two previous ones. In case you didn’t read them yet: Part 1 | Part 2

Thank you for all warm words and praise! It means world to me.

I also love this series, folks! I need to admit, I did get addicted to it a little, so I thought it’d be great to set updates schedule. It won’t be precise, but you can expect another part roughly in two weeks time from now.

As per usual, sorry for any confusion and grammatical mistakes.

Warnings: Rape (mentioned), Depression, PTSD, Forced Pregnancy, Blood

Word count: 6200

No summary this time. Also, this one has very sweet parts in it!!!

ENJOY!

The next day, you had your appointment with the doctor. A doctor was apparently a woman and you were sure the kings were paying her something extra for the visit to be immediate. Unfortunately, she didn’t know any English, as she was a local gynaecologist. Your mates didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way, so before the visit, Aro asked you, who you’d like to be the translator for you.

The ideal situation would be a woman, but you didn’t trust anyone in the castle, except the kings. For this reason, your first shot was Aro, as he had already seen your memories. There was nothing that would shock him, you also didn’t need to hide anything from him and you knew, he was the best at dealing with others. You figured it’d be an ideal solution and you had to admit to yourself that you simply wanted him to accompany you.

The whole visit took place in your room, which meant a lot of carrying the necessary equipment, but more mental comfort for you. In those two days, you managed to get quite settled in and didn't want to leave the castle. You felt safe and secured in your suite. Kings seemed to notice that, as it was Marcus, who proposed, it would be a great idea to have an appointment without the need of leaving your room.

While you both were waiting for the doctor to come, it was the first time you had seen Aro with brown eyes. He looked really out of place. You shared this thought with him, by saying you prefer when his eyes are normal. That’s what it took. Two days, to consider red eyes normal. As usual, he was polite and revealed to you that he also hated the colour, let alone the lenses.

When the doctor finally arrived, you were already a nervous wreck. Aro tried to distract you, asking questions mainly about your house in Forks and whether you had already spoken to Bella about family heirlooms. He succeeded for a while, but it couldn't last forever, could it?

The lady was extremely kind and gentle. The truth was, it was hard to hide how stressed you were about this visit. You didn't want anyone to touch you, not when you weren't ready, and this time you definitely weren't. Despite the doctor's initial efforts, you were unable to shake her hand in greeting. She only smiled sadly, as if understanding perfectly what you were going through. Aro assured you beforehand, for he had not told her anything and only if you wanted to, you should share your trauma with her.

The doctor, seeing your nervousness, decided that you should talk first. While she asked you questions, you noticed that she chose her words carefully and only then did you realise that she was also stressed, but in her case it was probably Aro's presence that made her uncomfortable. Although Aro tried not to impose his presence on her, you understood why it might overwhelm the doctor. You felt confident being in the same room with Aro, while she probably sensed danger, even if she could not rationally explain it to herself. You promised yourself that you would try to learn at least the basics of Italian before the next visit.

She needed to ask you about exactly everything since, unfortunately, you didn't have any medical records with you - neither from the obduction, nor from the subsequent visit to the doctor, where you confirmed the pregnancy. You made a mental note to tell Bella about it, so she could send your documents, along with the things she was supposed to take from your house.

Aro was great in his translator role. Of course, you were still looking at the doctor, while answering the questions, but Aro’s voice, at least, soothed your shattered nerves just a little bit. When the questions started to get more complicated or more intimate, Aro used such words as to not make you feel uncomfortable, while still conveying the meaning. The more difficult part started, when you had to describe the situation from the hospital and how long it took for the bleeding to stop. Every word seemed linked to a particular image or smell from that night, until finally, you were unable to say anything at all.

The doctor was very understanding, probably having already guessed what exactly was your weird behaviour all about. You didn't say anything directly, you only described the situation from the hospital and then told her the details of this strange bleeding after the rape. Mainly because the doctor was very concerned about it. She explained to you that it was definitely not normal, even if you had wounds inside.

The worst part, however, was the examination. You didn't even want to think about whether you would have to undress, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The doctor had a great intuition, even if she herself was under a bit of stress. You told her that, indeed, you had been to the check-up before and that was how you found out you were pregnant. And that the doctor then checked if all the wounds had healed. The lady didn’t discuss the issue, for which you were very grateful.

After the interview, the doctor told you to lie down on the bed and only pull your blouse up, high enough for your belly to be visible. You didn't feel comfortable with this, but you preferred this way to undressing from the waist down. This was the first time you didn't feel comfortable lying on that bed. You knew that once the visit was over, everything would return to normal, but it wasn’t meant to become a memory you would return to with pleasure.

As it turned out, your first trimester was long over. The pregnancy was about 14 weeks old and that would explain the slight curving of your belly. Before the appointment, you were not sure if you would even look at the monitor to see the baby, but you did. You could not deny yourself this. The room fell silent and you could not tell what you were feeling.

The doctor pulled out some kind of a strange device and after a moment, you could hear the baby's heart. You glanced in the direction of Aro, who was obviously alarmed by your face. You grimaced, too overwhelmed to say anything to him. Up until this point, you were sure that the decision, if you should terminate the pregnancy or not, would be fairly easy. Now, you were certain that nothing in your life could be simple enough.

Over the next few weeks, your day usually looked the same or similar, yet you managed to do something completely different every day. You were glad you had so much to do, because you didn't have time to think about what had happened. You didn't want to analyse it over and over again. The kings respected your choice - unless you yourself mentioned the traumatic events, not a single insinuation or implication about it fell from their lips.

Your days were filled with various activities. Every day you spent at least some time with each king in private - you knew you needed this to create and strengthen your bond. To keep you from being inundated with information, you learned something new from each of them about vampires and their lifestyle. After all, it was supposed to become your lifestyle in the nearest future. You discovered that thinking about your transformation caused you far less anxiety, than any memory associated with rape. Even after you learned that it more or less consisted of burning alive for a few days.

During your time with the kings, you tried not to show the insecurity you had acquired about your body, and yet, you were sure they knew anyway. However, the time spent with them was what you treasured most. With each of them you did something different, as you wanted to know what they like to do in their free time. Marcus, as he had promised on the first day, taught you Italian for two hours every day. It was not easy, but after a few weeks of intensive course and communicating in broken Italian, not only with Marcus, but also with the other two, you were able to maintain basic conversation.

Marcus was a great teacher, but that wasn’t the only reason why you loved spending time with him. He was the one who had the most time for you - he wasn't as busy as Aro or Caius, and besides, he had countless amounts of patience. He wasn't tired of your constant questions, not only about vampirism, but also about his past. You would often sit for hours in the library or in the gardens, which, by the way, were breathtaking. You both loved books and your only regret was that you weren't able to read most of their vast collection. Marcus assured you, you would have all eternity to do so. You could talk with him endlessly, as these conversations were truly effortless – even the most difficult topics seemed simple and uncomplicated.

You were surprised to learn about a gift of his. Your human mind was unable to comprehend it in the full sense of the word. Mostly because of this, he was the one to explain to you, what your bond even was and how exactly it worked. You have learned that after your transformation, you will feel the bond even more strongly. It is not often that one person has as many as three matches and is able to feel the bond while being human. Marcus explained to you that for now, both your mind and body are only subconsciously sensing the presence of the mates, as it’s impossible for human senses to do anything else.

It was so remarkable to you that you discussed it for hours. You also learned that the bond can be broken, as it is not forced in any way. However, this would be emotionally painful and very few vampires would choose to take such a desperate step.

One afternoon you were spending time in the garden again. You loved being outdoors, but for your own safety you did not go outside the castle grounds. Together, you decided that it would be safer to do only after your transformation. Besides, you didn't want to go anywhere. You were safe under the watchful eye of your mates and Renata, who, apart from the time spent with the kings and in your room, followed you in a constant manner.

The gardens were gorgeous and you wondered, who was taking care of all those magnificent flowers. You were strongly convinced that this was exactly what Eden might have looked like. You and Marcus had your favourite bench. You spent a lot of time outside, especially on sunny days. When you first found out why sitting in the sun might be a problem, you couldn't take your eyes off Marcus. He shimmered brilliantly, but your eyesight couldn't stand it for too long, because of the blinding effect. The gardens, however, were fenced off and inaccessible to the common passer-by, so you were safe to stay, as long as you wanted to.

“I asked Aro recently, if vampires can be killed in some way,” you began cautiously, not wanting to scare him away from this conversation. No one had talked to you about it, however, it still crossed your mind what state Marcus was in when you first saw him. You were willing to swear you looked exactly the same after your mother died. Now, knowing what all the mating bond was about, you were convinced that Marcus had lost someone dear to his heart.

As per usual, he smiled gently at you.

“I'm sure his answer was sufficient, my dear. What are you aiming at?” he asked, looking at you obliquely.

You took his hand in yours. With Marcus, physical contact was as easy as a conversation. He, however, never initiated any touch. He waited for you, just like he was waiting now, to reach for his hand or gently grasp his arm. The only movement he allowed himself was to stroke your hair every now and then, but only when he was absolutely sure you were willing.

“I wanted to ask what happens to the bond, when the vampire…is no longer here,” you said bluntly, not taking your eyes off him. Your understanding was unique. Marcus was gentle in manner, patient and extremely caring towards you. In no way did you want to ruin, what you had built over those few weeks.

His smile turned into one of the saddest you've seen on his face. By the time he answered, you regretted asking at all. You didn't want to cause him pain. You squeezed his fingers in your palm.

“Until you came to Volterra, I was sure that a vampire could only experience this special, unique bond once in a lifetime. I did experience it, yet this story does not have a happy ending,” he said, with utmost sadness in his voice.

Your heart ached, as you watched his suffering and grief. You had asked the question unnecessarily, but now there was no turning back. You continued to stroke his fingers, holding his hand securely in yours.

“When one of the vampires connected by mating bond dies, it does not mean that the bond disappears. It exists, but only on one side. It cannot be cherished, it cannot be repaired in any way. It isn’t reciprocated. What remains are the memories, and they are the only reminder of what the bond really meant, when it existed,” he explained in a distressed voice, slowly and carefully.

Holding his hand, you laid your head on his shoulder and sighed heavily.

“I'm so sorry this happened to you,” you whispered after a moment, feeling tears stinging under your eyelids. Even now, you couldn't imagine losing any of them and you couldn't possibly envision the amount of pain Marcus had gone through.

He embraced you carefully and gently hugged you to his side.

"Don't fret over it, cara. I've made my peace with it. However, that doesn't mean I've forgotten. I still miss her, after all these years," he said with longing in his voice, stroking your shoulder gently.

After a long moment of silence, you were in a genuinely poor condition. Tears dripped down your cheeks and your breathing quickened. Not only because of the pain Marcus must have gone through, but also because of your own yearning. You had come to terms with the death of your parents, but you missed them so much. You wanted to have them at least a little longer. Now, standing on the verge of immortality, you wished you had spent more time with them.

Marcus placed a kiss on your hair.

“Sob it out, dear. Nothing helps the soul more than honest tears,” he whispered, and you were ashamed, because you should be the one providing comfort for him. However, the memories were too fresh and you couldn't hold it back.

Once you had calmed down a bit, he handed you a handkerchief to wipe away your tears.

“I wish I could change my memories. Even if it was only for a brief moment to be able to forget that I will never see them again. To be able to forget what this…this monster did to me,” you whispered, snuggling tighter into his shoulder.

You heard his sigh and his embrace around your shoulder tightened.

“You have been terribly abused, cara. No one deserves such a fate. The most important thing now, is to get on with life. Our loved ones would not want us to dwell on their deaths,” he said, as wise and thoughtful, as ever. The hatred towards your abuser was palpable in Marcus’s voice.

“You are so good to me. I don't deserve this,” you whispered after a while, your voice swollen with emotion. He only smiled indulgently.

“You deserve the very best, dear. I've already lost one mate. I won't let anyone hurt you.”

“I’m sure she would be proud of you,” you said with compassion, after another moment of silence.

“I’m not quite certain about that,” he said, placing another kiss on the top of your head.

But you were sure. You were also sure, you would do anything to prevent Marcus from experiencing something like this again. You knew all too well the taste of grief.

You truly had little time to think about the rape and pregnancy at all. If you weren’t with Marcus, it was Caius who loved to kidnap you, so he could spent some private time with you. Caius was the complete opposite of Marcus – absolute chaos, you could say. You had no idea how the brothers even got along. You had already noticed that Marcus rarely spoke, while Caius was rather impulsive and liked to discuss things in detail. However, until you started spending time alone, you had no idea what he was really passionate about.

It turned out that his greatest passion was art. He would show you countless paintings he himself had painted throughout the centuries. He could talk for hours about types of paint and how to mix colours properly. Although you were not very good at painting, you tried to learn a little with Caius’ help. When he was alone with you, he was still abrupt and impulsive, but in a charming way. He never imposed himself on you and you discovered that annoying him was really great fun. So banter and frequent teasing were the order of the day.

You often spent afternoons and evenings with Caius. He taught you how to paint, but not only. Art history was his passion and you loved to listen to him tell stories. His voice was mesmerising and hypnotic. He also eagerly answered all your questions about vampire race. You listened about the horrible children of the moon and how Caius singlehandedly had almost slaughtered them all. He warned you that after the transformation you would be violent and impulsive, that you would have nothing on your mind but to satisfy your thirst. This frightened you slightly, but at times when things got weird or dangerous, Caius assured you that you would always have full support of your mates. You never doubted that. You knew they would help you to grow accustomed to your new life.

Caius loved every variety of art you could name. When he asked you for permission to sculpt you, you were so surprised that you made a strange sound. He said that, of course, he wasn't going to overstep your boundaries and you yourself would choose some beautiful casual attire, so he could portray your beauty in sculpture. All you had to do was dress once as he asked and stand in the right pose. He remembered every detail of your posture, including your facial expressions. Often, he would sculpt you, while you would talk about insignificant things also learning how to sculpt...well, things that didn't resemble anything. Yet, you wanted to be as good as he was.

You were in your nineteenth week, when he invited you for a long painting session. His studio was huge and consisted of nothing but breathtaking works of art. You were decorating some random sculpture that you had never seen before. Caius also loved contemporary art, so you could go wild. Taking classes with him was better, than any therapy. You could smear paint on everything - the canvas, the sculptures, yourself, and even him, because he was usually in a good mood and you could enjoy it. He never showed you even a trace of anger, and you, fooling around with him like that, were genuinely pleased and happy.

When you finished, the room looked rather bad, not to mention the clothes or your hair. Caius would never have appeared that way to the guards, let alone on trial, but with you it was different.

“I wanted to show you something,” he said, wiping the paint off your cheek.

You took his hand. Caius, like Marcus, did not invade your personal zone, unless you specifically gave permission. However, carnality and touch were important to him, and so, once you were more comfortable in his presence, he liked to show you affection by stroking your cheek or your back, and intertwining his fingers with yours, when you held hands. You didn't mind his cold skin – by now you were accustomed to it, as three of them had similar body temperature. You were the hottest here. Literally.

You walked slowly to another room.

“I didn't tell you, but I finished craving” he said, and you could hear the excitement in his voice. You smiled at him. That was the main reason why you had agreed to have yourself sculpted in the first place. You wanted to get close to him on a level, which was inaccessible to do in any other way.

“Before you show me, will you tell me as to where you even got the idea of carving me?” you asked, amused. Caius was much taller than you, you had to slightly lift your head to look him straight in the eye.

At first, he smiled archly, but immediately his smile softened. He pulled at the material that covered the sculpture, so that it fell to the floor. You were simply speechless. The woman, who stood opposite to you was over four metres tall. The sculpture was made of marble and the woman looked, as if she was an actual person. There was something elusive about her. Her face, thoughtful yet serene, her hair flowing freely over her shoulders onto her back. She was clad in a fine fabric that flowed in waves down to her bare feet. She looked nothing like you and yet, you two looked exactly alike.

You had no idea that you started crying. The woman was beautiful. You could feel the power and dignity emanating from her, and on the other hand, she seemed to you as if... fragile and ephemeral. Caius had captured in this sculpture all the feelings you had been feeling, without even knowing it.

You felt his hand on your cheek, his fingers gently wiping away your tears along with some paint, which remained on your face.

“I thought I would like you to see yourself through my eyes. Exactly as I see you – without a single flaw, yet with all your imperfections. I don't want you to be unable to look at yourself, because of what this animal did to you. I don't see it. I only see you, [Y/N]. The real you. Beautiful and fragile, yet powerful, without inhibitions or scruples. Capable of anything.”

The words were trapped in your throat. You wanted to say something, but you were sure, that as soon as you were going to open your mouth, uncontrollable sob would come out. You looked first at Caius, then at the woman carved in marble, then back at Caius. He only smiled gently.

“Who we are – we decide that ourselves. No one else does. To me, you are beautiful. Pure. Never think otherwise, dolcezza.”

Without warning, you hugged him so hard, that it hurt. You forgot that his skin was different from yours. He embraced you without hesitation, even though you were all covered in paint. You wept, cuddling into his chest, as he soothingly stroked your hair and back.

Once you had slightly calmed down, you looked up at him. His blond hair looked like a halo over his head. He amazed you in every sense of the word.

“Thank you. Thank you for letting me see this,” you whispered poignantly, and then went straight back to hugging him.

“There's nothing to thank you for, my lovely [Y/N]. I would like you to accept yourself as you are. Because you are truly magnificent.”

The only person you talked straightforward about pregnancy was Aro. Was it because of his gift? Most likely, and you simply felt you could trust him. From the moment you first found yourself in his arms, the bond between you two only strengthened. Also, a memorable visit from the doctor was also significant, and then, together with him, you went through the documents that Bella had sent you. To say he was furious, was an understatement. Yes, Aro saw your memories, but the reports were written from a third-person perspective. And the other evening was really awful – you couldn't stop crying because you couldn't block out the flow of memories.

You were close with each other; close enough for you to try to overcome your insecurities, to talk about how you really felt about this whole situation you found yourself in. It was far from easy, but Aro was a really patient specimen. In the course of these talks, you discussed practically everything. You knew that every scenario had to be worked out and discussed, because there were many different options of the outcome.

Despite many conversations, you were still unsure about keeping the baby. You didn't know if you wanted to, if you would be able to raise it and then tell it that it would forcibly have to become a vampire. After the doctor's appointment, things did not get any easier for you. You heard the heart and knew that the child was not to blame for its father’s actions. You were raped, but this child had nothing to do with it.

So you waited. You waited for a miracle to decide for you or for the baby to move when you were thinking of having it removed. It’d be a sign not to do it. However, nothing of the sort was happening and fate was not deciding for you. Aro convinced you that, even if you decided to have an abortion, there was nothing wrong about it. No one would blame you for it. The only person to blame here, was the monster who raped you.

You hadn't decided what you would do about the pregnancy, but you and Aro knew what would happen, if something went wrong. For your mates, it was your health and life that came first. Aro assured you of that a thousand times over. Because of this, if anything went wrong with the birth or if there were any complications, you were to be changed immediately. Also because of this, Aro talked to you about all aspects of your transformation. He was the one who introduced you to what transformation actually looks like. He didn't scare you with the pain you were about to go through, but only gave you the facts. Facts that you needed to know.

When you weren't talking about such serious matters, Aro also loved to spend time talking to you, but about different topics. He seemed to know all your thoughts, but you were still able to surprise him. He explained to you, that the human mind was more disordered and chaotic, than vampire one and that he certainly didn't see everything. Your brain chose the memories, often associated with strong feelings and emotions, which were meant to be remembered. You were joyful about this, because you could talk endlessly and he kept finding out something new about you. And you kept finding something new about him. You knew from the first moment that he was extraordinary, and the more you talked, the more you became certain about it.

Besides, Aro adored dancing. You were not convinced about this form of activity, but it was the intimacy of this act that convinced you. In his arms, no one was able to hurt you. You felt safe and, after many attempts, quite confident in your movements. He literally beamed, being able to teach you to dance and to be so close to you. You found nothing in his eyes but the infinite adoration he had for you. When you found out the reason behind this, your heart almost broke with sorrow and compassion.

“I must confess something to you, cara mia,” he whispered, holding you securely in his arms. It was evening, you had long since been prepared for sleep. He found your long nightgown to his liking, when he came to check how you were doing and if you needed anything. You rested your head on his shoulder. There was no music, he was the one giving the rhythm to your movements, yet it was the most wonderful dance you had yet had the chance to dance with him.

“Do tell, please,” you said, trying not to lose the rhythm. You were tired, as throughout the day you sorted through the things Bella sent you from Forks. In addition, you worked with Marcus to sell your house, because you were, after all, a little concerned about what hands your family home would pass into.

“I have been bound over the centuries to both men and women. My ex-wife, Sulpicia, whom you know and, to the best of my knowledge, whom I permitted to leave, was my faithful companion, basically from the beginning of my immortality. However, until now, I did not know what it meant to have a true mate.”

He tilted you gently, wishing to look into your eyes. You continued to sway to a non-existent rhythm, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You furrowed your brows.

“Are you serious?” you asked in a whisper, not wanting to ruin the moment. The light emanating from the candles, illuminated half of his face. He smiled, and you were unable to take your eyes off his red irises.

“Yes, my dear. I have waited over three thousand years for you. I must tell you, that I could wait another three millennia, only to see your beautiful face,” he said affectionately, holding you tighter against him to stroke your flushed cheek with his fingers.

Your eyes welled up with tears and he slowly bent down and kissed your forehead.

“That's enough for today, cara mia. You must rest well. Caius has something planned for tomorrow, but he didn't want to reveal what, under any circumstances,” he said amused, giggling under his breath. You loved when Aro was in a good mood, because then you were in a good mood too. Before he walked you to bed, he wiped away your tear. You squeezed his hand in yours, then climbed onto the bed. He covered you carefully with a duvet and stroked your hair.

“I'm glad I came here,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “I never want to leave you,” you said with force. He smiled softly at you and stroked your hair once more.

“We will always be by your side, [Y/N]. Good night, cara.”

His voice so soft and tuneful that as soon as he snuffed out the candles, you drifted off to sleep in an instant.

Apart from the fact that almost everything was going great and your mental state was in constant improvement, your relationship with Bella had severely worsened. In the beginning you talked every evening. She still couldn't understand why you were selling the house and why you wouldn't, at least, want to visit Forks. After a while, you got fed up with explaining it to her. There were an awful lot of things she wasn't happy about and she didn't hide it. She kept criticising the Volturi without knowing them and having no idea, what they were actually doing.

You loved her like a sister, but because of that, she could annoy you exactly like one. Because of her pinching remarks and your lack of patience, you called each other less and less. You didn't want to keep getting annoyed and you were tired of explaining things to her. Besides, you didn't like that she didn't say a single good word about your mates. You at least tried to accept Edward. Suddenly, what he did to her was all forgotten and you couldn't understand it. You didn't know, what was happening to your sister and your stay in Italy didn’t exactly make things better. You still hoped that once you saw each other after the transformation, you would be able to explain it all to one another. You didn't want to lose Bella, the last person you considered family.

So you talked less and less or not at all, and when you did, you avoided difficult and sensitive topics. It was not like with Bella at all and it made you anxious. You were at ease with each other, almost always, and you didn’t get why she was so bitter and hateful towards your knew, chosen life. Especially, because partially your presence right then, in the trial chamber, was the reason for her to be alive at all.

Shortly after Caius presented you with your sculpted self, you were to spend the whole day together, the four of you. These were the days you loved the most. Although you cherished the time spent with each of your mates separately, the presence of all three put you in an ecstatic mood. You usually spent your afternoons like this – there were still a lot of things to do and solve, and a lot of trials to carry out.

Being in Volterra for so long, you learned a lot about the existing laws and how to enforce them. You knew that kings were not flawless, but it was logical to you that keeping the entire vampire world in line, required some sacrifices. Some greater than the other ones.

You usually sat down in the study, where you had ended the very first day, at a round table. You listened to the discussions and arguments, but also just spent time with your mates. You often sat on Aro's lap or tried to calm Caius down, when he became too agitated.

You were extremely excited since the morning, because they promised you a whole day outside. It wasn't often that all three of them wanted to spend time with you in the gardens, so you couldn't restrain your exhilaration. However, there were also days, or rather moments, when, under any circumstances, you could not leave your room. Such a moment was to occur today, after breakfast. You slept for a long time, almost until eleven o'clock. When you ate your breakfast, it was Renata who informed you that it was time to eat. Of course, you knew what it was about.

The only situation, in which you could not leave your chamber, was at lunchtime. Not yours, though, but the lunchtime of all the vampires, who inhabited the castle. For your own safety, usually for about two hours, you were not to leave and to occupy yourself with whatever you wanted. The only two hours, in which Renata or anyone else was not around you. Not many people knew about your stay in the castle and because of this, the kings decided that Renata should eat with the rest of the company.

You did not consider it strange in the slightest. Of course, you tried not to think about the fact that people would die, but you knew that they were chosen at random. Which meant that they could just as well have been run over by a car or they could have died in a fire. You did not think about it. You were just enjoying your two hours of freedom. Sometimes you sunbathed on the balcony, prepared your outfit or just played on the computer. These were little things that still reminded you of being human.

This week, when Renata told you that she would be gone for a while, you were already enjoying a long soak in the bathtub. The home spa was one of the favourite things you and your mum liked to do together. You poured hot water into the tub, applied a mask that you had prepared yourself with a few ingredients and relaxed.

Since you had no idea when, you were no longer afraid to look in the mirror. Sure, your body shape was far from ideal, but at least you weren’t terrified to look. You weren’t terrified to acknowledge that, yes, your body was raped, but you were recovering from it. And that you started to think that your body didn’t cause any of this.

After some time you spent in the bathtub, you felt a little dizzy. It wasn’t exactly a good sign, so you figured it’d be wise to get out of the tub. When you rinsed yourself off with clean water, you stood up, and that was the moment of terror. The room immediately started spinning, like you were on roundabout for the last forty minutes. You felt nauseous, but there was nothing near you to which you could cling to. You managed to step out of the tub, on the marble step, and then you felt it. Pain, excruciating pain, suffocation. Streams of blood went down your legs and before you fell onto the ground, you could only see white marble floor all covered in sanguineous blood.

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Something in the woods is stealing peoples’ Souls;

Merlin learns the hard way that he's a little more... fragmented, than normal people when he tries to solve the issue himself.

Part 2 (final part)

All of the Physicians in the town are being overrun.

Bodies keep showing up, still breathing, still perfectly functional, all seemingly unharmed... but they won’t wake up.

None of them will even twitch, as if, whilst the physical bodies were in perfect condition, there was something lacking somewhere, stopping any sort of higher brain function.

The King, his Knights, and even the Court Physician and his (newly titled) Co-Worker (as opposed to Apprentice), were baffled.

Medically, they had nothing to go on, all they could do was keep the bodies alive as best they could, and hope that some sort of solution could come about after some good old fashioned detective work.

Thankfully, it only took five days, and twelve comatose patients, for The King’s best Knights to realise that all of the... victims(?) had been found in a specific area of the woods just outside the city limits.

With such a distinct, and unexplainable issue, it was assumed (rightfully) that magic was involved somehow; whether it be some sort of creature, or yet another evil sorcerer hell-bent on revenge.

Which of course led to Merlin, one of the Court Physicians, and also (Secretly)TheMostPowerfulWarlockEver™, putting on his warmest clothes and sneaking out in the dead of night under the worried gaze of Gaius.

He did not come back.

Not that anyone but Gaius knew.

Early the next morning, King Arthur gathered his best Knights, Sirs Leon, Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan, to go and hunt down whatever it was that was rendering his people permanently unconscious.

Gaius and Merlin had explained the previous day, when these plans were conceived, that Merlin would have to stay behind; Camelot’s Physicians were so overwhelmed with not only normal patients, but now twelve comatose bodies as well; they needed every pair of hands they could get. For once, Arthur was happy to leave his manservant behind.

The man cared greatly for his people, and whilst he would love nothing more than to have Merlin at his side all day, every day, he knew that he was safer, and more needed, in the city.

It was meant to just be in case Merlin got injured and had to hide it, but Gaius did well to hide his worry when he waved them off, and didn’t mention that Merlin wasn’t even in the city, that they could be finding Merlin’s comatose body next.

It took the Gang barely half a day to get there, and they had supplies to last them a few days in the woods, if that’s what it came to, but they were all still tense.

They hadn't seen anything like this before. They had no idea what they were up against; there were no physical injuries to assess, no eye-witness accounts, nothing found in their blood or on their person. Just unconscious bodies that showed no sign of waking.

Thankfully, they found no more bodies as they methodically searched the forest, but they also found no sign of what was wrong.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary: nothing attacked them, there was no blood, no destroyed areas, not even a scrap of evidence that something had even happened.

They finally stopped to make camp at sundown, dejected. Their mood definitely worsening with Elyan’s terrible cooking.

Gwaine was, of course, the most talkative:

“I know he’s needed or whatever, but are we sure we can’t go back and get Merlin? I’ve eaten a lot of gross shit over the years, but I’m not sure if I can take this for four more days.”

Elyan grumbles in embarrassment as the others snort, amused, and he throws a twig at Gwaine. It snaps in two across the knight’s face with a satisfying crack.

Arthur ignores the childish behaviour (something he can’t believe he has to do in the first place), shaking his head as he replies:

“No. The health of the people comes before your stomach. If Gaius says he’s needed in the city, then he stays in the city. Though I was surprised that he wasn’t there to wave us off.”

Gwaine smirks knowingly, and Percival puts a warning hand on his shoulder, but it does nothing to deter the knight as he waggles his eyebrows at The King.

Arthur flushes slightly, but he covers it quickly, not having time to retort before Gwaine opens his mouth again:

“Missing him, are you? Perhaps next time you should request that he stand on the battlements in a dress, and wave a handkerchief at us as we heroically ride out?”

Arthur throws a much larger twig (it’s more of a branch, really) in Gwaine’s direction, and this one knocks him off his seat, but before anyone can even snigger at him, Arthur loudly announces the watches and tells everyone to get some sleep.

The next day went much the same.

That is, until late-afternoon.

The Knights were continuing their methodical search of the woods, once again finding themselves somehow tense and bored, when they came across a clearing that had clearly seen a gruesome battle.

Trees were uprooted, the ground was covered in deep holes and scorches, and there were even the occasional splashes of blood.

Which honestly raised more questions that it answered.

After thorough searching, they were hopeful. It looked like it had been some sort of fight between a sorcerer, and something... not human, some sort of creature. BUT, going by the tracks, the sorcerer had survived, and wandered off.

Was the sorcerer injured, or was the creature injured? If the sorcerer had walked off, injured or otherwise, where was the creature? Surely they should find the body of one or the other?

Another question that no one really wanted to ask: was this even related to the bodies?? Or had the Knights just stumbled onto something completely unrelated that they would inevitably get dragged into dealing with anyway?

Either way, they couldn’t ignore it, and with new-found motivation, they followed the tracks deeper into the woods, instead of setting up camp, like they had intended.

Whoever it was seemed to be wandering aimlessly. The blood trail slowly came to a stop, and it seemed that every step was stronger; as if whoever it were was gaining more energy from walking, as opposed to becoming more tired.

Still, whoever they found at the end of the tracks would be able to provide some sort of answer.

Eventually, after around two hours of diligently following the footsteps through the woods, Arthur signalled everyone to stop.

He wordlessly dismounts his horse, and gestures everyone to quietly do the same, before silently pointing ahead.

The knights look carefully to where he gestures, to see a man stood in the centre of a clearing, facing away from them.

They, still silent, draw their swords and sneak closer, but the man doesn’t move, doesn’t even twitch, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was stood upright, they would think him dead.

Arthur steps into the clearing, about twenty feet from the man, and furrows his brow. That looks like.... no... it can’t be, can it? He shakes the thoughts from his head, convinced that he’s just imagining things, but before he can make his presence known, the man turns around, as if he sensed them stood there.

All of them gasp and take a step back, immediately recognising Merlin.

But he’s... different.

He stands scarily still, unusual for a man who was constantly fidgeting or on the move.

His face is blank, and if he hadn’t been staring straight at them they would think he hadn’t noticed them at all, and whilst he stood as if uninjured, his tunic is ripped and blood-soaked.

But what draws everyone’s attention, was the bright golden glow of his eyes, highlighted especially by the quickly descending darkness of the evening.

Arthur brings his sword up slowly, taking a cautious step forward as he calls Merlin’s name.

Merlin simply tilts his head slightly, otherwise staying still, before stutteringly beginning to speak:

“Mer... lin... Merlin....... Merlin is... Merlin is...... Merlin is gone.”

It’s clear that something is deeply wrong with the manservant, but the way he spoke, as if he knew how but had never actually done it before, like he was still figuring it out, creeped the hell out of everyone.

His words as well, “Merlin is gone” do nothing but fill them with dread.

Lancelot steps forward quickly, moving to stand in front of Arthur, sword unsheathed but pointing at the ground. He was unsurprisingly less fearful of the golden irises, and recovered the quickest:

“What do you mean, “Merlin is gone”, gone where? Who are you?”

Merlin... or... not!Merlin, tilts his head further:

“Merlin is... gone. I... I... I want him... back.”

Lancelot gulps but before he can reply, Arthur breaks out of his stupor, and growls:

“What have you done with him?! Whatever you are, give him back!”

Merlin moves his gaze from Lancelot to Arthur, and takes a step forward, before bowing his head slightly, as if out of respect:

“You are... The Once and Future King... I want him back... you... you... you need him... back.”

The rest of the knights are fully freaked out now, but they hide it well, and gather slowly around Arthur. Lancelot scowls at them, holding a placating hand out. He really doesn’t want any of them to get jumpy and skewer Merlin. He takes another step towards the golden-eyed man:

“We all want Merlin back. The bodies, the same thing happened to you? Happened to Merlin?”

Not!Merlin nods slowly once again, looking back to Lancelot:

“It... took him... from me. I... I... I want him back.”

Lancelot returns his nod, letting out a deep breath:

“And who are you? What are you doing in Merlin’s body?”

Not!Merlin frowns slightly, as if confused, the first actual expression he’s pulled this whole time. It takes him a few moments to respond, and Lancelot is getting desperate; he can feel the knights behind him getting more and more jumpy, especially Arthur:

“I am... I... I have always been here... I am... I am... I am me. I am Merlin’s... and he is... mine... I want him... back. He is... mine.”

Lancelot tenses slightly. He has a feeling he knows what’s going on. Merlin talks about his magic sometimes, talks about it as if it’s... sentient. Described the way it’s always desperate to reach out to Arthur and the Knights and Gaius and Gwen, how it sometimes does things without his permission.

Lancelot gulps. This is bad. Merlin’s magic is walking around in his body without him there to control it. They were going to struggle to explain this away, as much as Merlin claimed Arthur was an idiot, it wasn’t completely true. Lancelot bit his lip, glancing back at the others as he re-sheaths his sword.

He knows there’s no way to get them to relax... unless... this might backfire terribly, but it also might be the only way to get them to calm down a little.

Lancelot frowns thoughtfully, and just before Arthur works up the nerve to say something else, he turns back to Not!Merlin:

“Do you mean us any harm?”

Not!Merlin once again tilts his head and frowns as if in confusion:

“No... Merlin is... Merlin is fond of... you. I.. I was made for... for The Once and Future King. I am... unable to hurt him.”

Lancelot nods, before saying slowly:

“Do you have any reason to lie to us?

The golden-eyed man shakes his head slowly, the glow seeming brighter as he replies:

“Why would I... I... lie? I could kill... you without a... second... second thought. I want Merlin... back.”

The knight nods one final time, looking back to the others to gauge their reactions. Their swords are still unsheathed, but lowered, their faces tense and concerned, but not angry. Lancelot supposes that’s the best he’s going to get at this point.

He lets out a rough sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looks back at the Warlock:

“You’re not Merlin. What do we call you, until we can get him back?”

Not!Merlin lets his gaze wonder to the knights, before finally landing on Arthur. His speech had been getting better with use, but he speaks slowly and keeps his stare on The King, as if curious to his reaction:

“I am... I am... I am part of him. I don’t... have a name. Call me... me... Emrys.”

Lancelot grits his teeth, and his eyes whip to Arthur, to see if he recognises the name.

With The King’s gasp, and widening eyes, Lancelot knows that he does recognise the name.

“You... you’re Emrys?? I thought Emrys was some all-powerful sorcerer, what are you doing in Merlin?”

Arthur is too distracted to notice Lancelot’s panic, but Leon, ever the observant one, is not, and frowns at the sudden fear on his fellow knight’s face.

Mer-... Emrys had already admitted that he wouldn’t lie, if Arthur keeps asking questions, he’ll figure it out. But before Lancelot can think of a solution, Emrys replies:

“Emrys is... is... our other... name. But I am not... Merlin. Not on my own. I want... want him back.”

Arthur looks taken aback, but before he can ask another question, Gwaine steps forward, giving Lancelot an unreadable look before:

“Right, well that’s all fine and dandy, but we need to set camp up and figure out what we’re going to do about... this.”

He gestures vaguely to Merlin’s body after sheathing his sword.

Arthur looks about ready to argue, but with another pointed look from Gwaine, Lancelot jumps into action:

“Gwaine’s right, we need to gather the horses and set up for the night. Here is probably alright, then we can come up with a plan to get Merlin back, and presumably, all of those other people.-”

He turns to Arthur, a sufficiently subservient expression on his face:

“-If you think that’s best, Sire?”

Gwaine rolls his eyes and scoffs at that, heading back to gather the horses from where they’d been left without further prompting. Arthur’s argumentative expression drops after a moment, and with one more mistrustful glance to Emrys, he nods, instructing the others to gather wood and get started on dinner.

Lancelot lets out a breath, but flushes slightly and tenses his jaw when he sees Leon giving him an inscrutable look. He turns away after a moment, under the pretence of helping Gwaine.

The moment Lancelot reaches Gwaine, a few metres into the treeline, the other knight quickly turns around and grabs his shoulders. He glances desperately back towards the clearing, and when he establishes that they’re the only two within earshot, roughly whispers:

“Please tell me you figured it out?? Because I’m not sure how the hell I’m going to keep Arthur from finding out on my own.”

Lancelot’s eyes widen, but his shock keeps him silent for only a few moments before Gwaine shakes his shoulders. He blinks away his surprise, whispering his response:

“You know?? Does Merlin know that you know?”

Gwaine shakes his head, finally letting go of Lance’s shoulders:

“No. I worked it out like twenty seconds ago, I’m sort of hoping that Arthur isn’t as quick as me. How long have you known?”

The other knight nods his head understandingly:

“About as long as I’ve known him, but I’ll explain later. This whole thing is... terrible. I don’t think our odds are good. Mer- Emrys won’t lie, and we won’t be able to stop Arthur from asking questions. He’s probably asking them now. We need to get the horses and get back.”

Gwaine nods roughly, and without another word, the two of them gather the reins of their six horses, and quickly make their way back to the clearing.

They had only been gone a few minutes, and in that time, firewood had been gathered and arranged. Elyan pulls a flint out of his pocket, and Lancelot widens his eyes as he sees Emrys tilt his head (still stood in the same place), moments before waving his hand casually.

The wood bursts into a roaring flame, and Emrys suddenly has four swords on him. Lancelot and Gwaine rush forward, standing in between Emrys and the other knights, holding their hands out as if in surrender. Gwaine speaks first:

“Hey! You might be freaked out by all of this, but that’s still Merlin’s body, and he needs it, so lets not poke holes in him, alright??”

Everyone bar Arthur lowers their swords, but before Gwaine can growl something out, Lancelot turns back to Emrys:

“Look, they’re all a little... unnerved, by magic, so maybe stop using it for now, yeah?”

Emrys tilts his head and furrows his brows again, and everyone stares at him in shock as he replies, not quite knowing what to make of his response:

“But I am magic. I am magic... incarnate. If I stop... I... I cease to exist. And Merlin... Merlin needs me. He needs me like... like... like humans need to breath. I can not just... stop. He would... would... we would die.”

Lancelot tightly shuts his eyes. There is officially NO way to explain this one away. Gods, Merlin is going to be so scared when he finds out.

After a few moments of shocked silence, Arthur finally squeaks out a:

“What??”

Gwaine quickly responds, before Emrys can reveal anymore:

“No. It's cruel to take Merlin’s secrets from him when he isn’t even here. We find Merlin, then you can ask your questions.-”

Arthur looks angry, like he wants to argue, but Gwaine takes a threatening step towards him, resting his hand on his sword at his hip as Lancelot and the other knights look on the scene with panic in their eyes. Gwaine growls out:

“-I said no, Princess. Everyone here knows I’m more loyal to Merlin than you, and that doesn’t stop just because he’s not here and you’re about to throw a temper tantrum.”

Arthur huffs, but lowers his sword as Gwaine glares at him, and Lancelot lets out a breath. The other knights follows The King’s lead, sheathing their swords and settling tensely around the fire.

Lancelot goes back to the horses, tying them down and removing saddlebags, with Leon’s help (and constant stare, which was an odd mix of concern and suspicion).

Gwaine points Emrys to a spot on the floor, and tells him to sit. The knight settles next to him protectively, his sword across his lap as he glares at Arthur on the other side of the fire.

The evening passes awkwardly, food being cooked and eaten in silence, no one quite sure what to say.

Arthur spends the whole time with a pinched look of frustration on his face, but the knights look to him as he takes a deep breath, his expression morphing into an odd mix of concern and accusation in the blink of an eye:

“How do we even know that the... Merlin, part of... part of you is alive? What happened to hi- to you? How do we get him back?”

Lancelot wants to be annoyed at his tone, but he poses valid questions. They still had no idea what actually happened or why or how they fixed it.

Emrys tilts his head, aiming his golden stare at Arthur:

“It is one of... of the Manducan, or The Eating Ones. They... are very rare, they steal... steal souls. Bodies can survive a short while.... a short while without them. Hence your... comatose patients. I am... we are, a little more... fragmented... than most. I contain too... too much power, so The Manducan took... only the human... human part.”

Everyone looks extremely worried at that, but Arthur’s face turns desperate as he rushes out:

“What do you mean, human?? What are you??”

They all stare at the raven-haired man as he speaks, his eyes focused on the King:

“We do not... know. Some call us a Lord, or a King. Others call us... call us... a God. In moments... of power, we... we hear prayers. It can be... disconcerting.”

The camp is silent for a while after that, everyone processing what had been said. Merlin heard people praying to him... not even Lancelot knew that, Merlin had never told him.

After around half a candle-mark, Leon breaks the silence to ask the questions that had been pushed to that back of their minds:

“How do we kill this creature, and what happens if we do? Can we get the souls back, undamaged?”

Emrys turns his golden gaze to the curly-haired knight as he replies:

“It is already... weakened. The Forever King needs to... strike... strike it with Excalibur. They hibernate for.... for centuries... and only return to this plane of existence to... collect food. If you... if you... if you kill it before it leaves, the souls will... will return...naturally.”

The knights all let out breaths of relief, but Arthur looks at his sword oddly, before muttering:

“What’s so special about my sword? And why do you keep calling me strange titles?”

Lancelot gulps, and Emrys tilts his head:

“You know of Emrys, but not of the... the prophecies?”

Arthur nods his head slowly, but Lancelot interrupts before Emrys can start the complicated process of explaining his and Arthur’s destinies:

“Perhaps that’s a... story, for when we have Merlin back in one piece. How do we track the creature?”

Arthur gives him a glare, before lowly saying:

“Do not think I do not notice you avoiding the subject, Sir Lancelot. You know of these prophecies?”

Lancelot grits his teeth, but gives a slow nod:

“Bits and pieces. Merlin isn’t fond of talking about it.-”

He raises a challenging eyebrow, still staring Arthur in the face, and everyone is take aback. Lancelot was never anything but respectful and polite to his King; this defiant look shocked them all:

“-You see, he’s spent his entire life in Camelot absolutely terrified that someone will overhear him, and have him burnt.”

Arthur took in a deep breath, hiding his guilt behind a blank façade, but before anyone can say anything, their gazes are drawn back to Emrys, who looks almost... mournful?

He nods his head slightly, and the sad look on his... on Merlin’s face, looks so out of place for someone so normally upbeat:

“He is... we, are constantly frightened. It is exhausting. I try to... to reassure us but... Merlin is... is... is always so scared, despite our power. We used to... to love flames, fire. Now it is... terrifying to us.”

Lancelot had kept his gaze on Arthur, and when The King looks back at him, his despair badly hidden, the knight simply shrugs one shoulder and nods slightly.

Arthur lets out a breath, and looks to his lap, whispering so quietly that the group barely hears him:

“He’s scared of... of me.”

Gwaine growls out an “Of course he is, you’re a Pen-.”, but he’s interrupted by Emrys:

“No. He would allow you to... to kill us. But we couldn’t bear to... to lose you.-”

He finishes his statement quietly, and Arthur looks up at him, tears in his eyes:

“-We don’t want to be sent away. Camelot is... is... is frightening. But it is also our... home.”

“I would never send you away. When we get Merlin back, you... you tell him that. Tell him he’s safe with me, with us, and always will be.”

Emrys tilts his head yet again:

“And my people? Will we be an... exception? Will you make us watch you... continue to persecute our people, whom we... we... we should be protecting? Merlin does... does not want to make a... hypocrite out of you.”

The knights look at him expectantly, and he blanches slightly as he looks away. The King gulps, before taking a deep breath and looking back, straightening his spine and looking confident:

“The laws will change. Crimes committed with magic will be judged the same as crimes committed without; it’s about time I faced the cruelties of my father.”

The corner of Emrys’ mouth tilts up briefly as he nods, but says nothing. Gwaine smirks, Leon and Lancelot give The King proud smiles, and Percival and Elyan look taken aback, before they relax into fond smiles of their own.

The evening had passed quickly, and with all of them exhausted, it’s decided that any further discussion on how to track this... Manducan, would happen in the morning.

All of the knights fall asleep quickly, finding the protective golden glow of Emrys’ unsleeping eyes both comforting and unsettling.

They all woke the next morning oddly refreshed, but the relaxed atmosphere didn’t last long when, one by one, the knights noticed Emrys sat unnervingly still, in the exact same spot as last night.

Only the occasional blink and shallow breathing proved that he was in fact alive, and not some sort of incredibly life-like statue.

Food was eaten, and camp broken quickly; the golden eyed not-quite-a-servant staying in his spot the whole time.

Despite Emrys saying that the souls would be fine as long as they got there in time, they were still full of nervous energy, and wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible. Not least of all because they had a lot, and I mean a LOT, of questions for Merlin... or... all of Merlin.

Emrys was pointed to Lancelot’s horse, and once he mounted in front of the knight, everyone looked at him expectantly. He simply tilted his head, and Arthur huffed:

“Well? How do we find this... creature? Can’t you-”

He waves his hand vaguely, and Leon is the only knight able to hide his snort at The King’s impression of magic.

Emrys nods in understanding, and extends his hand in front of him. A thin stream of light, like a glowing string floating in the air, extends from his palm, snaking through the trees.

He nods, this time in the direction of the light, and the knights urge their horses to begin a quick paced journey.

Conversation is sparse, but eventually the question on all of their minds is asked by Percival:

“If you could do that the whole time, track the Manducan I mean, why didn’t you?”

Emrys doesn’t look towards him, but the horses noticeably slow as everyone bunches together, curious about his answer:

“They are of a different... different plane. Magic can harm them but... but... but not kill. I was waiting for The Once and Future King to bring... bring Excalibur.”

Percival nods in understanding, but Leon frowns:

“Well... what about us? Will we not be able to harm it with our swords?”

Everyone copies his frown at that. They’re valid questions, and Arthur is silently grateful that Leon had the tactical mind to think of them:

“No. It will be safer for... for... for you to... wait. I can distract and injure it further until... The Once and Future King can... kill it.”

The knights looks worried at that, but Elyan is the first one to pipe up:

“We’re meant to just stand back and watch? Can’t we set a trap, or help distract it?”

Emrys shakes his head:

“It can not be trapped. Being too close would... would have adverse effects on... on... on your souls.”

Arthur looks back from his position at the head of the group with a frown on his face:

“Well what about my soul? I’m presumably going to have to get close to it in order to stab it?”

Emrys fixes his golden stare on The King, and tilts his head slightly in confusion:

“Your soul was forged through magic, it is marginally... immune. It will take a little... longer for... for... for your soul to react badly.”

Arthur nods, looking back to the front, muttering something about “having a time limit before my soul implodes or whatever. Great.”

Once the knights finish snickering at Arthur, Gwaine asks:

“Wait wait, if Excalibur is the only thing able to kill it, what are you doing out here?”

Emrys tilts his head, looking back to the knights:

“We were... unaware of that at the... the time. We only figured out what... it was, when we fought it.”

Everyone nods, all of them wondering just how many times Merlin had snuck out to take care of something, with none of them knowing about it. The list of questions they had for when Merlin was back in one piece was getting longer and longer, and no part of this conversation was helping the anxiety swirling in Lancelot’s stomach.

After another hour or so of silence, Elyan pipes up:

“I’m surprised no one has asked yet but... what does this thing look like? I know we’re following a trail or whatever, but what are we actually going to find at the end of it?”

“They shift sizes, though they always take... the form of a thick-”

Emrys is interrupted by Arthur pulling his horse to a sudden stop, and pointing through the trees ahead of his, harshly whispering:

“Black shadow??”

Everyone stops behind him and their gazes dart quickly to where Arthur gestures. Through the trees they see a large mass of deep black smoke.

The black tendrils seem to writhe in the air, and the knights can see vague impressions of limbs tipped with impossibly sharp claws darting out occasionally before retreating back into the fog.

The creature looks like evil in semi-corporeal form, and the usually strong-willed warriors take in stuttering breaths at the overwhelming instincts of “Unnatural, run run RUN!” screaming at them with every passing second.

The shadow doesn’t seem to have any front or back; being in a constantly shifting state, sometimes seeming to freeze, sometimes darting through the trees in a blur.

The knights have lost all colour in their faces, and their breath comes shallowly and quickly. Arthur gulps, tightening his grip on his sword as he whispers:

“Horse, or on foot?”

The sound of Emrys’ feet softly thudding on the undergrowth gives The King his answer, and he dismounts his horse slowly, trying to stop the shaking in his hands and legs.

He takes a deep breath as Emrys moves to stand behind him. His voice is shaking and desperate, as if he were a child reaching for help after a nightmare:

“How do I... what do I do, Merlin?”

Emrys tilts his head, but doesn’t say anything of the The King’s mistake:

“You need only get close enough to... deeply slice it. It is fragile in this... this realm. Cover your eyes when you... you do so, the light will be blinding. Do not let it... touch you. I am reluctant to admit that, after what it did to... to... to our soul, I do not know what it will... do to yours.”

Arthur takes another deep breath, and clears his throat slightly as he gives a firm nod. Time to be brave now, for his people, for Merlin.

The King can hear his knights dismount behind him and tie up the horses, ready to jump in and help at a moment’s notice, in spite of... whatever will happen to their souls. None of them are really sure they want to know, so none of them ask for details, and Arthur is unendingly grateful for their silent loyalty and bravery.

Emrys walks forward, past Arthur, and towards the creature. The King gulps before silently slipping off to the side; he doesn’t know how the creature sees (not having a head, or even eyes, as far as he can tell), but Emrys said he would distract it so... splitting up makes the most sense?

The knights can tell the exact moment the creature notices Emrys walking towards it.

The tendrils of shadow seem to writhe even more frantically, and the fog bulges and retreats again, somehow giving the impression of anger, fear.

Emrys plants his feet strongly and raises a hand, summoning vines and roots from the ground with nought but a gesture; Arthur only gives himself a second to be distracted by the sight of Merlin so effortlessly doing magic before focussing back on the creature.

Everyone bar Emrys winces, and covers their ears as the beast lets out an ear piercing screech, moving judderingly towards the Warlock. The trees shake with the noise, and a few of Emrys’ magical attacks disintegrate into the air. He summons more, and snarls in concentration as the beast whips towards him.

Emrys rushes forward to meet the beast, and they clash in a burst of golden light and black shadow, each trying to take over the other. The shadows try to sneak around the Warlock, reaching towards the knights behind him, but they’re quickly halted in their tracks as cracks open in the ground, swallowing the fog before it can do any damage.

The golden light emanating from Emrys pulses brightly, and the creature is pushed back, the edges of its smoke disintegrating slowly into the air. It lets out another high pitched screech, and Arthur takes that as his cue; rushing silently forward, on the opposite side of the creature to Emrys, and swiping down precisely with Excalibur.

The knights see his attack coming, and step even further back, heeding Emrys’ warning and covering their eyes, Arthur doing so with his free hand as he brings the sword down.

Excalibur cuts through the shadow with no resistance; the screech getting impossibly louder as the blade leaves a blindingly golden trail in it’s wake.

Emrys simply stands back to watch, but the pitch of the beast’s screech forces the knights to the floor, eyes tightly shut, and hands clamped over their ears.

Suddenly, the noise stops, and the shadows of the creature seem to disintegrate into nothing as the golden light of the wound takes over. The light recedes in on itself, before exploding outwards and fragmenting into pieces. The bulk of the fragments fly in the direction of Camelot, golden blurs through the trees, but one, the smallest and dullest (due to being only part of a soul, they assume) flies with speed straight towards Emrys.

The knights and their King finally look up, feeling oddly exhausted, to see Emrys take a staggered step back and grimace in pain as the light forces it’s way down his throat.

He falls to the floor, and the knights rush towards him as his muscles spasm and he begins to scream. His eyes are shut tightly and Lancelot quickly lunges forward to grab his wrists as his hands go to yank at his hair.

Everyone gathers around him, Lancelot yelling for them to hold him so he doesn’t hurt himself. They can only hope that Merlin is an exception, and this isn’t happening to the other victims back in Camelot. Lancelot keeps a hold of his wrists, and Arthur discards Excalibur in favour of holding down Merlin’s shoulders, whilst Elyan, Leon, and Gwaine hold down his hips and legs, and Percival wordlessly stands guard.

Merlin’s screaming dies down, and he stops thrashing so much (but stays tense), but the knights don’t let go just yet. He opens his bleary eyes, and whispers, so faintly they barely hear it:

“... Lance?”

The knight lets go of Merlin’s now limp wrists gently, and strokes a hand through the man’s raven hair:

“Yeah, I’m here Merlin. All back in once piece?

Merlin closes his eyes again, and goes fully slack as the others let go of him fully, nodding slowly as he gulps before groaning:

“Yeah, that fucking... hurt.”

Lancelot huffs out a gentle laugh, but before he can reply, Merlin gasps and quickly sits up. When his wide, panicked eyes land on the rest of the knights huddled around him, his breath deepens and he scrambles back frantically, only to run into Arthur, who grabs his shoulders.

Merlin whips his head around and rips himself from The King’s grip, stumbling to his feet and rushing back, away from the knights and into a tree.

His ears are deaf to everyone’s gentle reassurances that he was safe, and his eyes are blind to the hands held up in soft surrender. He sinks to the floor as his breathing gets even more frenzied and tears gather in his eyes, but before he can process that he was safe, the mix of memories triggers a blinding pain behind his eyes.

He gives a pained yelp and shuts his eyes tightly, bringing his hands to grip the sides of his head as he curls up on the floor. Merlin begins to groan again, and Lancelot desperately gestures for everyone to stay back as he kneels by Merlin’s side, pulling his hands away from his head again:

“You’re safe Merlin, no one’s going to hurt you, do you remember? We said that to the bit of you that was left.-”

Merlin doesn’t seem to hear him, but squeezes Lancelot’s hands painfully tight as he continues to groan, arching his spine:

“-Ok, ok, what’s wrong Merlin? Your head? We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s wrong. Is it your... your soul?”

Merlin shakes his head slightly, groaning dying down, but still struggling to draw breath, still gripping Lance’s hands:

“Your magic?”

Another shake of the head has Lancelot beginning to panic a little; none of them have dealt with anything like this before, and he doesn’t know what’s wrong with his friend. He continues to try and comfort Merlin as he struggles to think of what else it could be, when Merlin begins forcing himself to take deep breaths, and stuttering out:

“Mem... memories.”

Lancelot takes a fortifying breath, and the others crowd a little closer, panicking for their friend:

“Memories? Ok, which ones? Memories from the bit of you that was wandering around, or memories from the bit of you that was in the creature?”

Thankfully, Merlin’s pain seems to be dying down slightly. His breath comes easier, but his eyes stay tightly shut and his muscles still spasm periodically as he grinds out:

“Both. Two sets of memories from... from the same time. Hurts. My. Brain.”

Lancelot huffs out another gentle laugh, rubbing his thumbs softly over the back of Merlin’s hands, and the others relax at the sight of Merlin’s pain lessening. Gwaine kneels down next to Lancelot, and quietly announces himself before beginning to run a gentle hand through Merlin’s hair.

This goes on for a few more minutes; the servant’s pain dwindling and his breathing evening out as his mind sorts the two sets of clashing memories and stitches the two pieces of his soul back together, Lancelot and Gwaine not stopping their soft ministrations for even a moment.

He finally relaxes fully, opening his eyes but not moving from his position on the floor as he gazes tiredly up at Arthur’s worried face, over Lancelot’s shoulder. His words comes out timidly, and Arthur has to stop himself flinching at the hint of fear in his voice:

“Did you mean it? Am I... safe?”

Arthur forces a soft smile on his face, hiding his worry, and gives Merlin a firm nod:

“I promise Merlin, you’re safe. None of us will hurt you.-”

Merlin smiles back at him, before nodding, and closing his eyes, drained from the ordeals of the last few days:

“-though you need to make sure your head is on straight at your earliest convenience, I’ll need your help to write that repeal.”

Arthur says it with a weak, teary grin, and Merlin chuckles slightly, nodding softly once more before drifting into a deep sleep, exhausted.

Lancelot mutters that he’s asleep, and the smile drops from Arthur’s face, his brow furrowing in worry as he crouches between his two knights, putting a hand to Merlin’s forehead:

“Will he be alright?”

Lancelot shrugs, biting his lip, and sporting a similar expression to The King as he replies:

“I’ve no clue. His soul was split in two, his magic was pushed to the limit in that fight, and his body didn’t rest at all or eat much for at least a day; he’s probably just exhausted, but we should get him back to Gaius.”

Elyan, Leon, and Percival move back to gather the horses without prompting, and within minutes the gang is racing back towards the city, Merlin’s unconscious form being held protectively in front of Arthur (his excuse being that Lancelot’s horse had already held the extra weight for half a day, and he’s The King, so he can do what he wants).

Thankfully, the creature had been between their camp and the city, so it only takes them around a day to get back. They took few breaks, and ate whilst they rode to save time. Despite not waking up the entire journey, Merlin’s breathing stayed alright, and he occasionally mumbled nonsense to himself, so the knights weren’t panicking too much.

They didn’t stop when night fell, and so finally pulled into the castle courtyard at around midnight. A guard was immediately sent to wake Gaius, and Percival wordlessly took Merlin from Arthur’s horse, only after The King had given him a short nod of approvable.

They got to the Physician’s chambers to see Gaius wide awake and bustling around the room, clearing a cot and gathering various potions and ingredients.

Percival gently set the manservant on the cot, and Gaius firmly demands that they all leave the room to give him space to work, choosing to ignore the fact that he had told them that Merlin was in the city, and that they definitely shouldn’t have come back with his exhausted, unconscious body.

Arthur notes that Gaius doesn’t react at all when Lancelot stays behind, but has to temper his frustration (and jealousy) when the Physician shoots the knight a concerned look when Arthur himself also refuses to leave.

Lancelot sighs, but gives Gaius a reassuring smile:

“It’s fine, Gaius, they all know about Merlin’s magic, he’s safe. We said we’d explain when we got Merlin back in one piece.”

Gaius sends The King a curious look, hiding his concern well before he seems to catch up on what Lancelot said:

“Back in one piece?”

Arthur moves closer as Lancelot nods and begins to speak, content to let the knight explain as long as he got to stand near Merlin:

“He said it was Manducan?-”

Gaius widens his eyes in surprise, but nods, continuing to mix together various herbs as he listens:

“-Apparently, Merlin’s power was too much for it to handle, so it took the non-magical part of his soul. We found Merlin’s body being controlled by his magic. It was... odd. He was still Merlin, you could hear it in the way he spoke, or the words he chose, but it wasn’t... all of him. Just the magic part. He wouldn’t lie to us, and was desperate to get the “Merlin” part of his soul back. Unless we spoke to him he just... sat there, blankly.”

Gaius hums thoughtfully, and he and Lancelot politely pretend not to notice Arthur reaching out to gently grab Merlin’s hand.

Finally, the physician finishes mixing his potion, and gently pours it into Merlin’s mouth, holding his nose shut and massaging his throat so it goes down properly. He sits back on his chair, glancing at Arthur quickly, before looking back to Lancelot:

“The other victims began to wake just under a day ago, so I’m assuming that the creature was... dealt with?-”

At Lancelot’s nod, he continues:

“-Did Merlin wake at all when his soul came together?”

Lancelot nods again, speaking quietly, feeling oddly like he doesn’t want to disturb Arthur softly rubbing his thumb over Merlin’s hand:

“Hmm. Briefly. He screamed for a while, whilst his soul... I don’t know, stitched itself back together? Then he panicked, because he knew his magic had been outed, then he was in pain again. He said having two sets of memories from the same time hurt. Then he was just exhausted, he passed out a few moments after the pain stopped.”

Gaius nods, and Arthur finally looks up, knowing that the explanation was over, and a conversation was about to happen. The Physician speaks:

“Humans are not made for that, it would have been painful for his mind to try to comprehend and organise two separate sets of simultaneous memories.”

Arthur speaks, his voice quiet, but obviously worried:

“Will he be alright? How long until he wakes?”

Gaius looks to him once more, giving The King an assessing gaze. When he spies no anger or deception in Arthur’s face, he relaxes his shoulders slightly, and sighs:

“He will be alright, he just needs rest. Both his body and his soul have been through a great deal, it will take a few days to a week for him to fully recover physically, though I can’t speak for his mental state.”

Arthur looks panicked, and Lancelot worries his lip between his teeth as Arthur asks:

“His mental state??”

Gaius finds himself sighing yet again as he asks:

“How lucid was he, between the bouts of pain?”

Lancelot rushes to answer:

“Very. He understood what I was saying, I think, he asked a question and understood our answer. He just seemed tired.”

Gaius gives the two men an exhausted smile, before softly saying:

“Then I imagine he will be fine. Go and get some rest, I will send for you if anything changes, though it’s unlikely that he’ll wake up at any point in the next two days or so.”

Lancelot nods, and moves towards the door, but Arthur stays put. Gaius raises an eyebrow, but moves forward and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder:

“He will be fine, Sire. And... everything he has done, every lie he has told, has been to keep you safe. He couldn’t bare to lose you.”

Arthur nods absentmindedly, before looking up to the Physician, and whispering:

“I couldn’t bare to lose him either. You... you promise he’ll be alright?”

Gaius nods and smiles, noting with relief the tearful desperation on The King’s face:

“I promise.”

Lancelot smiles fondly from his place stood at the door, but wipes it from his face as Arthur turns towards him. The two men leave out of the room, Gaius’ assessing eyes following them all the way.

The door shuts behind them softly, and Gaius lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he had been holding, before running a hand gently through Merlin’s hair, and moving to settle in his own cot.

Of all the ways Arthur could find out about Merlin’s magic, out of Merlin’s control, Gaius never saw this coming, and though the pain Merlin felt was regretful, The Physician is grateful, that it went so well.

End of Part 1!!

Part two is already almost finished. It’s much shorter than this, and will be out at some point in the next few days!! Sorry this took so long lads, I’ve been really busy atm.

EDIT: I’ve actually just finished writing part 2!! It’s queued to be published at 12:30PM GMT tomorrow (09/05/21)

EDIT 2.0: PART 2 IS UP!!

Also I couldn’t find any mythical creatures that fit what I wanted, so I straight up just made one up ✌️

Head over to This List to let me know what you want me to work on next! :)

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mrs-dr-reid · 3 years

Text

Found

(A Criminal Minds Fic)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Summary: The team often misplaces Spencer in a crowd, and the Reader usually has to resort to “drastic measures” to find him so they can get back to work.

Genre: Sooooo fluffy, my guy.

Warnings: A few swears. One F-Bomb.

A/N: Okay, so, I love those tumblr posts where a fictional character can’t find their friend/sidekick/partner in a crowd, and they yell something to make the other person respond, then go, “Found him/her”, so that’s why I wrote this. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,630

———————————————————————

Spencer Reid is notorious for getting lost and/or distracted when the team has to enter a large crowd on a case. And funnily enough, Y/N L/N is most known for always being able to find him again so the team can keep working. Albeit through unorthodox means. Here are the top four best instances of how Y/N found Spencer, and one of how Spencer found Y/N.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One.

The team was canvassing the Santa Monica Pier in regards to a series of drownings in the area. Only problem was it was the busiest day of the week, and it was teeming with people. Hotch, Rossi, and JJ were back at the local police station setting up the investigation board, which left Emily, Derek, Spencer, and Y/N on canvas duty.

They spilt into pairs, and Derek and Emily took the left side of the pier while Spencer and Y/N took the right. After about 20 minutes, Derek called Y/N and said, “You’re on speaker, L/N. We’ve got nothing so far, Little Mama. How’s it going for you and Pretty Boy?”, so she replied, “We managed to get a few things that could be helpful. We’ll have to compare them against the case info, but that shouldn’t be too hard once we get back to the sta...tion,” but trailed off when she noticed Spencer was out of her eyeline.

She said, “Hey, Derek? You or Emily got eyes on Spencer?”, so he responded, “Can’t say we do. Why?”, and Y/N said, “I seem to have misplaced him,” while craning her neck to look around.

Emily said, “Should we try his cell?”, so Y/N said, “No. I’ve got this,” hung up, then cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “GEE, I SURE DO WISH SOMEONE COULD TELL ME HOW MANY KERNELS THERE ARE ON THE AVERAGE EAR OF CORN!!!”

A few seconds went by, then she heard Spencer yell from a churro stand, “STATISTICALLY, THERE ARE OVER 800 KERNELS ARRANGED IN 16 SEPARATE ROWS!”, which made Y/N smile and say, “Found him,” before working her way through the crowd to get to Spencer.

He offered her a churro with a smile, so she accepted it and said, “Thank you. Alright, back to the station with you, Churro Boy,” before grabbing his arm and pulling him along with her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two.

JJ, Hotch, Spencer, and Y/N were checking out the dumpsite for the latest victim in a series of strangulations in Shipshewana, Indiana. The body was found in an alley by a flea market, and while Hotch was talking to the local police on the scene and JJ was questioning the garbage truck driver who discovered the body, Y/N looked up from examining the body and realized that Spencer had wandered off when she wasn’t paying attention, making her whisper, “Goddamnit, not again,” and try to locate Spencer in the sea of heads flowing through the flea market.

Hotch walked over to her and said, “We’re heading back to the station. You know where Reid is?”, so she said, “Not yet, but we both will momentarily,” which made him shoot her a confused look. JJ came over to them, noticed Hotch’s confusion, then said, “You’ll see,” just before Y/N yelled, “I WONDER IF SHERLOCK HOLMES WAS BASED ON A REAL PERSON!!!”

Just before Hotch could ask what that meant, Spencer yelled back, “HE IS!!! SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE MODELED HIM AFTER ONE OF HIS MEDICAL SCHOOL PROFESSORS, DR. JOSEPH BELL!”, which made Y/N smile, say, “There he is,” and pat Hotch’s arm before going to get Spencer. JJ said, “Told you,” and went to get in the SUV.

Y/N found Spencer at a second-hand book stall, and he held up a slightly worn copy of Gone With the Wind and said, “Nearly mint condition for six bucks! Can you believe it?”, so she responded, “Crazy. Let’s get moving, Bookworm,” and grabbed his hand to bring him back over to the SUV.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three.

Rossi, Spencer, and Y/N were retracing an unsub’s footsteps through a farmer’s market in Nashville, Tennesse because Emily had made the connection that all four previous victims and the latest victim in a series of abduction-homicides had made purchases there before they vanished.

Rossi took the north end of the market while Spencer and Y/N took the south. After the two of them had interviewed five stall owners, Y/N noticed the absence of a 6’1” shadow looming over her. She took a quick look around her, let out an annoyed sigh when she couldn’t spot Spencer, then said to the owner of the strawberry stall, “Thank you for the information. Now if you’ll excuse me, I seem to have lost track of my colleague,” before venturing into the crowd.

Y/N called Rossi and said, “Did Spencer make his way over to you?”, which prompted his response of, “He did not. Why? Did he wander off on you again?”, so she said, “Yup. I swear, that man has the attention span of a golden retriever. I’ll find him, one sec,” then hung up and put her phone in her pocket. She yelled, “HOW COOL WOULD IT BE TO KNOW THE EXACT NUMBER OF RIVETS THERE ARE IN THE EIFFEL TOWER?!!”, and waited, apologizing to the patrons in her near vicinity for her volume.

Spencer’s voice came from a handful of stalls down with the reply of, “THERE ARE APPROXIMATELY 2,500,000!!!”, which made her mutter, “Bingo,” before heading in the direction of his voice. She found him at a homemade donut stand, and he held up a brown paper bag while saying, “She had my favorite! Chocolate frosted with sprinkles! And she had yours too! Homemade bear claws!”, which made her say, “Excellent. Remind me to put a bell on you when we get back to the precinct,” before taking his arm in hers and dragging him off to find Rossi.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Four.

Emily, Spencer, and Y/N were tasked with scoping out the latest crime scene in a series of stabbings in Duluth, Minnesota. This particular crime scene happened to be right near a pop-up carnival, and while Emily was talking to the local police, Y/N was interviewing the witnesses, and Spencer was surveying the scene, Y/N turned her head to see that Spencer was no longer by the crime scene.

She whispered, “Son of a bitch,” just as Emily came over to her, which prompted Emily to say, “Reid go AWOL, again?”, and Y/N to respond, “And the man swears he doesn’t have ADHD,” making Emily laugh slightly before saying, “Do your thing, Girlfriend,” and going back to talk to the lead detective.

Y/N yelled, “IF ONLY SOMEONE KNEW HOW LONG PLAYING CARDS HAVE BEEN AROUND FOR!!!”, and a few seconds later, Spencer yelled back, “PLAYING CARDS WERE FOUND IN CHINA THAT DATED BACK TO AT LEAST THE TANG DYNASTY, WHICH WOULD HAVE BEEN FROM AROUND 618 TO 907 A.D.!!!”, which made her mumble, “Yep. Boy Genius located,” before trotting off to look for him.

She found him at the cotton candy vendor with a bag full of the sugary pink stuff, and when she shot him an exasperated look, he said, “What? I was done looking over the crime scene!”, so she grabbed his hand and said, “One of these days, I’m buying you a backpack leash,” before dragging him back to where Emily was, but not before she snatched a handful of cotton candy from the bag he was holding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five.

The whole team was out on Bourbon Street in New Orleans, Louisiana looking to catch an unsub in the act of hunting for their next victim when Y/N got separated from Spencer and Derek. When Spencer noticed, he said, “Hey, Morgan. Did you see where Y/N went?”, which made Derek say, “Nah, man. I thought you two were joined at the hip. Y’all are coming up on three months now,” and wink at Spencer.

He scoffed and said, “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she won’t wander off,” before the two men tried looking around in an attempt to spot her. Derek said, “Huh. Normally she’s the one that has to track you down, Pretty Boy. This must be one hell of a role reversal,” and ruffled Spencer’s hair.

Spencer shrugged him off, then said, “Hang on, I want to try something,” and Derek said, “Alright. Get your girl, Lover Boy,” so Spencer rolled his eyes, then cupped his mouth with his hands and yelled, “SPENCER REID IS THE WORST PROFILER IN THE BAU!!!”, and it took less than three seconds for Y/N to yell back, “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?!?!”, from a few yards away.

Derek burst out laughing, and Spencer smiled fondly before saying, “Found her,” and going to look for Y/N. He found her near some street musicians playing a variety of jazz songs, and when they started playing “La Vie en Rose” by Louis Armstrong, Spencer said, “It’s our song, Y/N/N,” which made her jump before saying, “Yeah, it is,” with a wistful smile on her face.

Spencer wrapped an arm around her waist, then led her back to where Derek was waiting while saying, “You’re never going to live that down. You know that, right?”, so she smacked his chest and said, “Yeah, I know. And here I was always teasing you for wandering away from the group,” before smiling and kissing his cheek.

Spencer smiled, then pressed a quick kiss to her lips before they rejoined Derek to keep an eye out for the unsub, but both Spencer and Y/N had a bit more pep in their step.

———————————————————————

Tag List: @homoose, @hurricanejjareau , @xgoldentigerlilyx, @therestisconfettis, @less-intelligent-spencerreid, @aryaarathornson, @thomasgibsonfan01

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

#logan writes #criminal minds #one shot #reader insert #dr spencer reid

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juleswolverton-hyde · 3 years

Text

Not by the Moon | 08

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, eating disorder (personal experience, don’t be a bloody twat), heavy(?) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom trying to be a normal boyfriend

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.

I am seeing a trend starting to develop where every chapter turns into a behemoth that makes me not want to edit it at all. Nevertheless, I pulled through on this one despite being in the middle of a 32-hour work week and being absolutely exhausted.

Summer holidays, you said? I only see extra shifts and little me-time nor writing time and inspiration. That said, though, be prepared for some heavy worldbuilding because the plot thickens.

Also, and this has been edited in the previous chapter, a new special someone makes his debut in this chapter. Is this also a hint about whose story is next?

Who knows?

I don’t know.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

“Jaebeom? Jay!” I nudge the big man’s shoulder to signal for him to step aside so I can turn the stove off before the burned pancake catches fire. “That’s the third one in a row.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly. “I- I have a... I can’t focus.”

“Is it because of this morning?” If so, then that makes two of us. However, I tried to forget as best I could by working with timed productivity sprints instead of writing the article on Bruges in one go. It worked fairly well until lunch time came around.

That’s when I, too, couldn’t escape the claw mark.

The image of it flashes before my eyes once more, joining my thoughts with his if his blank look is anything to go by.

How did it get there? What did you do?

“Yeah. Morning. I... I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, this should be a nice evening. A cozy night in. You deserve my attention, for me to,” his breath tapers as he finishes the sentence, “be here.”

The quiver in his lips makes the roof of my mouth dry up and my mind empty save for gut-stirring concern, unable to think of a proper response. Nevertheless, I look for words to say what seems best. Like I did this morning when I went to get his medication. “How about I take it from here and bake the pancakes? You already made the batter and I can’t let you do all the work.”

“I like cooking for you.”

“I know you do, but it’s fine. Really,” I gesture at the couch by the living room window, which provides a glimpse of the small balcony, “sit down. I’ll call you once dinner’s ready.”

“Y/N,” he reaches out for my hand yet only dares to hold my fingertips, “I’m sorry I can’t be more.”

The crack in his voice breaks my heart. But its the vulnerability written across his normally stoic face which tears me apart at the seams. Whatever he means, it’s nothing to do with this morning. Rather, it’s about him as a person, the wonderful man he is.

Throat blocked by something I can’t swallow, I scan his attitude for any hint about what he truly means. “What’re you on about?”

Let’s just forget about it for a little while and be a normal couple. I promise I won’t run away despite what happened.

Unfortunately, Jaebeom dismisses the question to make a point I wish he didn’t. “We both know what’s ahead. But, sometimes it’s as if you’re avoiding the inevitable.”

I let out a deep sigh, caught red-handed. “I’m not, because I know or, rather, can guess where this is going. I just don’t know how to respond at times. And I don’t want you to feel bad so I try to keep the mood high as best I can. To, well, keep us both happy.”

“Is your avoidance of food also part of that?” he asks, carefully formulating the question while keeping a close eye on any change in my demeanour.

“Yes.”

“I hate it when you don’t eat.”

“I know, but if you knew the reasons behind it, you’d understand why it’s difficult for me. Although, I want you to know that I’m trying to keep my promise to you and eat when you tell me to.” I cup his cheek, lovingly swiping my thumb to and fro over the tanned skin. “It’s really hard to escape your determination. You’re very insistent on things.”

“Too much?” Eyes dim and glistening with withheld tears, he nuzzles my palm.

“Sometimes.” I kiss the tip of his nose and smile, a sign of happiness that’s only half a lie. “It doesn’t make me love you any less. Now, let me be a proper girlfriend and cook for you.”

Regardless of the wonderful sight of Jaebeom wearing an apron and being absorbed in his element in the kitchen, it’s equally as wonderful to have something to eat tonight. Secretly, I would rather have made a healthier and less calorie-rich dish, but we both need a bit of a reprieve from last night. Thus, for the sake of us both, I’ve decided to let go of my rules for a little while.

To enjoy something sweet.

As wholesome as the sight of the wolf man seated on the couch, knees pulled up with round gold-rimmed glasses balancing on the bridge of his nose as he reads the novel he apparently borrowed from my bookshelves. I should write a little note on the title page and give it to him as a present so he’ll have one of my books like I have his.

They’ll be on his shelves for as long as we’re here.

Be there even after he’s gone.

Then they will return to me yet still be his.

He will still be with me.

The pages filled with his love.

It’s everything that will be left of him.

His legacy.

His remains.

The thought leaving me filled with bittersweet affection, I cut the fruit to put on top of the pancakes while gradually using up all the batter. Were it not for the move to the cottage at the end of the month, I could easily be content here if he’d ask me to move in. Wherever we are, evenings like these might become a common occurrence, a splendid reward at the end of a long day at the office.

They could turn any place into our home.

The long road of the lone wolf would finally come to an end.

Because as long as he’s there, I’m home.

“Mind your head.” Despite the warning, Jaebeom nevertheless puts a hand on my head while he opens the cupboard above to grab two plates.

“I was just about to say dinner’s ready.” I let out a breathless laugh, hardly hiding the sobs at the thought of one day having to live without his touch. “Talk about timing.”

For a second, a curious expression treks across his face. It passes by too fast to properly describe it, but it seemed to be triggered by the meaningless remark about his return to the kitchen.

When a dangerously short and sharp breath escapes me, he swallows it with a kiss. Perhaps it’s the sorrow of knowing a storm lies on the horizon that makes me delusional, but a soft whine rises in his throat each time he kisses a stray tear away as he peppers my face in small pecks.

Satisfied he has taken the sadness more or less away, the corners of his mouth curl into a lop-sided smile as if nothing happened. Notwithstanding, it isn’t hard to figure the blissful ignorance is merely feigned. “Right. Timing.”

Our gazes lock and neither of us says a word until he perks up and motions for me to step back. “Fork and knife.”

Discombobulated by the shared confusion, I indeed set a step backwards so he can open the drawer. In the meanwhile, as Jay sets the dinnerware down, I put the final pancake on the stack and set it down in the middle of the table.

Chest puffed out, I clap my hands. “Dig in.”

Like yesterday, Jaebeom insists on doing the dishes while I settle down for the night. However, whereas I gladly did before, I now do with an uneasy mind. Arms wrapped around my knees, my thoughts run down a familiar dark path.

I ate too much. Maybe I should go home and do a workout. Then again, I really don’t want to even though I have to.

“Y/N?” The faint though surprising mention of my name breaks the imaginary stones weighing down my shoulders. I snap my head to the side, almost headbutting the wolf man who has appeared at my side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Lips pulled into a wistful smile, I scratch him under the chin in hopes of distracting him to the degree he won’t be able to ask further questions. “I’m tired, that's all.”

Unfortunately, Jaebeom is like a guardian who somehow notices a lot despite his absent-minded demeanour. Henceforth, the topic is all but abandoned.

Without warning, and as effortless as if he were picking up a book, he lifts me up from the couch to hold me in his arms. Instinctively, I clutch his loose black shirt to have a grip of something in case I fall. It’s an ungrounded fear since his arms are sturdy, but it’s comforting nonetheless to have something to hold on to.

My haphazard action elicits a low chuckle that makes my heart skip a beat, although it almost thumps out of my chest again as he rests his forehead against mine. “Let’s go to bed.”

“It’s only eight o’clock,” I sputter, chest tight and no breath sufficient enough to lift the sensation. “Besides, I- I don’t have any fresh change of clothes or toiletries or a pyjama.”

Did he turn the central heating up?

“Doesn’t matter. Can borrow. You. No, that’s not right. You… you can. You can borrow clothes from me. Also, I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere around here.”

“Jay,’’ As best I can, I try to keep my tone steady though the words come out too fast and uneven regardless, ‘’I think I should go home.”

If I don’t and I won’t get in some more exercise, I’ll gain weight and slowly go back to how I was.

And I’ll lose him.

Back to square one.

Loveless.

Despite the effort, I can’t prevent the crack in my voice as I weakly tug at his shirt. ‘’Let me go.’’

“No.’’ The gentle kindness has malformed into rough sternness, translated in a sound similar to a growl. ‘’You need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” I retort, more ferocious and sharper than intended though the equal harshness might help to drive the point home.

For a split second, he snarls and bares his teeth. Simultaneously, a flicker of a second personality passes across his mismatched eyes.

The calm ocean warps into a watery grave with high waves on a stormy night.

The hazelnut cracks to set that which it contains free.

His lashes abruptly flutter shut, as he lets out a pained gasp. Beneath my fingertips, his chest caves as if an imaginary fist has dealt him a blow in the guts.

And in mine as well.

Rippling flesh.

There’s… there’s no… Jay, what is happening to you?

I hold on tighter to the fabric, hyperventilating while trying to refrain from bursting out in tears.

There has to be something I can do! But what? What do I do? How can I make this stop?

How do I get you back?

Withal, shivering lips parted to beg for guidance, are interrupted by a shake of the head hanging low. Slowly, Jaebeom looks up, a light layer of sweat on his skin. Our gazes lock, but whereas the wolf man’s was filled with savage chaos, it’s now returned to the stern tranquility it held before the attack. Nonetheless, an uncomprehending whimper betrays the fact that whatever happened wasn’t experienced consciously.

The rage was beyond him.

Outside him.

Another’s.

Still breathless, he scoffs, the sound gruff and overtly disagreeing. “Let’s watch the moon and stars.”

There is no chance to ask any questions about the swift changes in demeanour since he promptly moves to the hallway and up the stairs towards his bedroom. The bedframe of the two-person bed also functions as a bookshelf which takes up the entire right wall, the shelves stacked with second-hand paperbacks in various conditions. An empty picture frame is placed on his side of the bed, a pair of glasses next to it.

Jaebeom puts me down on the navy wool blanket on the edge of the bed and leans in to steal a kiss, which is easy to do considering I’m too shaken to offer any protest. Nor do I feel the comfort of his lips. “Take your clothes off. I’ll go find you pyjamas.”

A tad reluctant, mind occupied by guilt and terror, I start to undress as he rummages through the wardrobe on the other end of the room.

Left only in my underwear, I sit down on the edge of the bed. Although he’s seen me naked once, I still wrap my arms around myself to hide my body. A shield to protect a fragile ego housed in equally as vulnerable body flesh.

Afraid of what might happen when those ripples grow out of control.

Terrified of who he will become.

Of who he is.

“Don’t.” Jaebeom turns around with a black hoodie and grey sweatpants in his hands, eyebrows drawn together. He closes the drawer, throws the clothes on the bed, kneels, and firmly yet gently grabs my wrists to break the walls I put up. And I let him. “Don’t hide from me.”

Not understanding where the shame originates from, he grows still as he scrutinizes my face for clues. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Instead of giving an answer, I change into the makeshift pyjamas. The hoodie is oversized yet comfortably baggy while the sweatpants hang disconcertingly low on my hips. Fortunately, any skin it reveals is covered up by the top.

Continuing to avoid his gaze without saying a word, I crawl under the sheets. Face turned to the window, I pull up the blanket he drapes over me and bury my nose in it.

A wild forest and cologne with a musty hint of pages.

It’s undeniably him.

I don’t know what else to do or say. So, I let the silence speak for itself.

A language he is fluent in too despite his oftentimes loud demeanour.

The mattress dips under his weight when he lies down and rearranges the sheets to cover us both. An arm wrapped around my waist and legs tangled, Jaebeom pulls me flush against him, his chest warm against my back.

A sob rises in my throat when I feel his lips place a kiss on my crown with a sigh of contentment.

I don’t deserve this.

Us.

Him.

The fear of losing him to whatever is happening inside.

Then again, Life isn’t fair. It deals everyone the same awful hand and leaves it up to the player to make the best of it.

I guess we’re both dealt a crappier hand than others. That, or we play them wrong.

Can we win at all?

“Talk to me.” As loving and happy as the casual intimacy of the embrace is, as forgetful it could make me if only I’d manage to fall asleep, Jaebeom’s oddly sweet cooing keeps me awake.

Staring at the moon.

A woman as fickle as me.

And infinitely more beautiful.

Funny how I, too, am jealous of a celestial body.

In love with the heavens.

He continues when he notices I won’t be the one to break the silence, his intonation laced by a whiny undertone like a dog wanting something yet being denied what it wants. “You know what I’m dealing with. But...” he digs his fingers deeper into my hips, the grip iron-like without being painful, “I hope this is okay to ask, but what is it with you and food?”

The encouraging squeeze in my side almost has me bursting out in tears again. There has to be a price to pay somewhere in the shadows, the overwhelming sensation of being genuinely loved and protected must turn out to be as two-sided as the silver goddess in the sky. After all, Life is bittersweet.

“It’s only fair I tell you.” Especially after how open he’s been. Besides, there’s no opportunity to avoid the topic since we’d arrive at it sooner or later. And he deserves to know. In fact, I don’t want him to forget my brokenness the moment I tell him about it.

We both want each other to remember our own missing pieces.

So I sigh, turn over and bald my hands into fists to rest against the warm skin of his bare chest. As I speak up, I try to keep my voice as steady as possible. “I used to be quite a fat kid, to the degree the GP advised my parents to put me on a diet. Queue high school and social pressure which led me to perhaps work out more than is healthy and left me bordering on the edge of anorexia. There are still foods I won’t eat and days I’ll worry about my calorie intake, especially on the days I don’t work out.”

I can’t help the mirthless chuckle which turns into a rueful smile. “It’s the good old cliché. Just another soul broken for the shallow enjoyment and acceptance of others.”

Lips pulled into a stern line, the wolf man remains silent. Notwithstanding, his eyes speak volumes when I dare to look up at him, the ocean and hazelwood alight with a watery sheen. Perhaps it’s the comfort of his nearness or the familiarity of those one of a kind eyes, but he inspires a confession which I never thought I’d make. “Nevertheless, I’m getting better and it’s partially thanks to you.”

Morgan spamming me with ‘Have you eaten?’ texts and Bam making sure I finish my plate whenever we go out for food either here or abroad help a lot too. Nonetheless, it’s mostly the bookish wolf who makes me want to try.

And be a little better than before.

“What do they feel like, those days?”

“The bad ones?” Jaebeom nods. “They’re ridden with guilt and self-loathing.”

He leans in, leaving only a few centimetres of distance between our faces. His breath is warm on my skin as he bumps his nose against mine. “You’re feeling that way now.”

“I am.”

“Don’t.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re still you. Beautiful as always. And I’ll love you regardless of how you look. I like your mind, which is as weird as mine. The way you hold my hand, as if you’re afraid I’ll walk away. How you unconsciously squeeze it when you need my protection more. How you feel in my arms, soft and warm as a bunny.” He hooks his finger under my chin and tilts it upward to run his tongue over my lips and nose. “Love you. A lot.”

“I love you too.” I turn my head to nuzzle his palm, my face perfectly fitting into it.

Please, no ripples. Let us have this moment. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Let me have him, just him as he is. At least tonight.

The secure affection of the touch transforms into something else when he glides the back of his hand over my cheek and folds his fingers over my throat. Testing the waters, eyes boring into mine to stop at the slightest sign of discomfort, he slowly closes off my access to air.

It’s funny how the body and mind react to certain situations. Whereas I normally would flinch and run in the direction of safety, there is no urge to run. In fact, the tingling in my chest travels down to rekindle a familiar heat between my thighs while my adrenaline-infused system aches for the wolfish lover. Henceforth, instead of jumping up from the bed, I spread my legs so Jaebeom can comfortably nestle between them.

“Let me prove it. Let me mate you.” The calloused fingertip journeying across the collarbone to the crook of the neck sends a pleasant shiver down the spine. Another electric shock follows at the coarse prickly sensation of his moustache rubbing against my skin as his soft lips kisses and nips at it. “It will only sting a bit, I promise. Please, the mark will look pretty.”

“No biting, Jay.” Reminded of our agreement this morning and the movement beneath his skin when his emotions seem to get the better of him, I pull him against my chest. Before he can protest I scratch his jaw exactly in the way he likes it, thus subduing his great ability to argue. “Not today.”

“It’s not... hm, k- keep go- What do- Bit higher. There. Like, hm, mhm, there. But... what normal-’’ Arms wrapped around my waist again and letting out a content hum, dark lashes flutter shut. For a moment, it seems he’s fallen asleep. However, his drowsy murmurs, while growing incomprehensible, still haven’t finished. “It’s not what couples do.”

“You’re learning,” I giggle, amused by the remark which sounds like a student recalling a piece of knowledge during a test and repeating it for himself.

Without understanding the knowledge completely. “What do they do?”

Staring at the ceiling, I run my fingers through his long dark manes as I try to come up with ideas about what we can do next. “Well, you’ve already given me your clothes. We could try jewelry next, maybe a promise ring. It’s an old-fashioned idea, but people who are promised to each other wear matching rings.

‘’What mean? Promised?’’

I say nothing of the faulty grammar of his question. After all, speaking becomes harder once exhaustion overtakes the body and mind. I have yet to find a sleeper being able to form comprehensible sentences. ‘’They’re sort of similar to engagement rings, but without the immediate implication of getting married soon.”

“Let’s get en- enga- enge-’’ Jaebeom lets out a groan, frustrated by his lack of speech. Nevertheless, it doesn’t perturb him enough to completely give up on the effort to properly pronounce the word he’s struggling with. “En. Gage. Ment. Engagement rings instead.”

I let out a breathless chuckle, amused both by his determination and the absurd proposal. “It’s definitely too early for that.”

“It’s not!” He barks, shooting up with a pinched expression on his face.

Scratching him like before, I manage to calm him down enough to make him lie down on my chest again. Nonetheless, his discontent shines through in the gruff scoff he lets out. “It is.”

“What if...” Prompted by the idea in his mind, Jay scrambles upright to face me once more. Lips parted, the feral sharpness in his mismatched eyes is replaced by a twinkle of barely contained excitement. However, the enthusiasm dims with a shake of the head and a low self-deprecating chuckle that ignites my curiosity. At the same time, it also tugs at the strings of my heart. “No, it’s wrong of me to ask.”

“What is?”

What were you about to say? Don’t keep it to yourself. Tell me!

“Never mind.” He lies down again, nuzzling my breasts as he snuggles up into me.

Then, he slips his hand under mine to lift and compare it to his. “Cute paw.”

Fine. Keep your secrets, you big burly bastard.

“Go to sleep.” I push him off of me, earning myself a disappointed noise which resembles a yelp. “On the other side of the bed, please and thank you.”

In the days that follow, the movement like water set astir under his skin continues to haunt my mind. In fact, it does to the extent that even the keys beneath my fingers seem to flow rather than be pushed down, causing me to flinch for the third time in a row.

For the past hour I’ve been trying to type out the notes on an interview with a chocolatier in Bruges and compose them into a coherent article. An otherwise simple task my mind won’t allow me to complete despite the attempts to remember the good moments we had recently. The video calls right before bed, the cuddle session a few days ago when we gazed at the moon, his enthusiastic texts about and photos of new recipes Jaebeom tried. None of it prevents the likely imagined terrible from destroying our happiness.

I’m going insane. He’s a normal person. Somewhat. I was jet-lagged and therefore not thinking clearly.

That’s why I thought I felt his skin move. I was delusional.

Drunk on him.

A buzz pulls me out of my reverie, the screen of my phone lighting up with a message.

Morgan: Starving! Found a new café thanks to a friend.

Y/N: Let me guess. I have no choice but to come along.

Morgan: There wasn’t a choice to begin with :)

Y/N: Of course not. What am I talking about, eh? See you in five.

Chuckling at the woman’s classic brashness, I shake my head, pack my belongings and head to the elevators.

Outside, regardless of the November chill, it’s pleasant. The sun shines brightly and the wind blows the little bundles of fallen leaves at the roots of the birch trees lining the street into motion, scattering them over the neatly swept pavement.

Winter is around the corner. God, I hate the cold. Hopefully, there won’t be snow any time soon.

I sit down on the bench under one of the birch trees, its branches already bare.

Autumn is truly ending now. Shame. I haven’t even had a pumpkin spice latte and cinnamon roll yet. Maybe I should ask Jay out and find a nice coffee shop where we can get them. After all, if he’s there, we can share the pastry. He’ll be happy and I won’t have to eat the whole thing. A win-win situation.

Enjoying watching the people pass by, each stranger essentially a book with a unique story that is yet not entirely different from someone else’s. Withal, the world feels colder without him, the missing part embodied in the unoccupied spot next to mine.

A delighted sigh on the right makes me snap my head around, alarmed at the notion someone has appeared out of the blue on the empty seat.

A woman clad in a white suit and matching fur-lined coat with pale skin and brown hair glowing copper in direct light stares contentedly up at the clouds. She’s in her very early twenties, although the freckles dusting her cheekbones and rosy cheeks might simply make her look younger than she is.

For a moment, taken aback and speechless, I cannot help but blatantly gape at the otherworldly stranger.

Wow, she’s like a goddess.

A stone sinks to the bottom of my stomach as a dark thought intrudes my mind. My throat dried up, I twist my wrists, the muscles stiff beneath my fingers.

Would Jaebeom like her? If he saw her on the street, would he... would he stop and stare? Prefer her over me or even try and give it a shot by introducing himself?

“It’s a bit chillier than I’d like, but at least it’s better than rain or snow.” The woman turns to face me, her features soft. “I hope spring will come again soon, though.”

I don’t get the chance to respond because a familiar voice calls out. Not that I would be able to form a proper reply otherwise. “You’re here already?”

“I happened to be nearby,” the stranger turns away to answer as Morgan comes to a halt in front of us, a puzzled expression on her face.

“I texted you fifteen minutes ago and you said you had to clean up. I thought you’d join us later.”

“The birth and after birth went faster than I thought so here I am.”

“I’m sorry, but what is going on?” More than a little lost, I look from one to the other in hopes of being given an explanation. “I didn’t know we’d head out with the three of us.”

“Right, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Brigid.” The dark-haired woman holds out her pale hand in greeting. “I work at the hospital as an obstetrician.”

“I’m Y/N,’’ I reply, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Lass,” wonder turned to a darker version of itself yet not saying anything, Morgan shifts her attention to me, “you look famished. Come on, let’s go.”

Offering a few muttered words of agreement, I get up and sheepishly tag along with the other women. As we walk out the street and round a corner, following the signs leading to the artist district nearby the university, I’m occasionally tempted to join the conversation. However, as soon as a short silence falls, I don’t chip in, unsure how to contribute to the small talk they seem to deliberately keep up in order to avoid a topic neither is keen to discuss. Thus I walk in urban loneliness, my train of thought displaced on my face as I let the ghosts of Jaebeom’s skin freely haunt my mind.

Right before the descent into the darkness of the rabbit hole, strong long fingers wrap around my wrist and hold it in an iron grip. The slightly painful squeeze interrupts my reverie.

Jaebeom?

I snap my head to the side to find Morgan standing there, leaning in a bit and her voice low. “We’re here.”

I don’t know how I’ve managed to ignore the bustle of students looking for a free spot on one of the terraces and loud conversations accompanied by the rustle of the paper bags hailing from the shops owned by self-employed artists. It’s also miraculous that I haven’t bumped into anyone by accident.

“Oh,” is all I say, looking at the café we’ve stopped in front of.

Wolf’s is spelled out in a modern font on the sign outside and above the door. A big window provides visitors with a view of the plaza. The interior is simple yet cosy, the white furniture warmed up by oak accents and the bare walls decorated with various art pieces, centered around wolves and various flowers. By the looks of it, they were all made by a single artist who likes to experiment with style every now and then. A few plants are dotted around the place as well to add a hint of free nature to the underlying strangely forest-like aesthetic.

A tall broad-shouldered man with short curly chocolate brown hair partially covering up the scar running over his left eye, strong dark eyebrows and a big koala-like nose stands behind the counter. Both of his arms and hands are decorated with various intricately designed tattoos. Whereas Jay is muscled yet lean, the tanned barista looks like a man who knows how to fight yet is a warrior in a society without combat.

As soon as we walk in, his lifts his head and turns to us. Playful lights illuminate the milky white of his left and raven dark of his right eye. A meadow of snow, its glimmer reflecting off of the smooth feathers of a wise bird. “Hi, welcome. Brigid, long time no see.”

Nobody seems to notice it, but his female colleague, a short woman with long flowy caramel brown hair tied into a ponytail who has her back turned to us and is busy extracting a shot, cringes at the merry mention of the woman’s name. Slowly, she steals a glance at us, hazel eyes sharpening when they fall on the woman in white. Nevertheless, she remains silent and quickly returns her attention to preparing someone’s coffee.

Looks like I’m not the only one envying her.

It is wrong to hate a woman for her beauty. Nonetheless, although it’s shameful, part of me refuses to associate with Morgan’s acquaintance out of a toxic mixture of spite and jealousy.

Such is the female nightmare.

“So this is what you’ve been up to,” Brigid muses, nodding appreciatively while inspecting the coffee shop. “You’ve got a nice thing going on here, Rome.”

“Please don’t call me that anymore. It’s Christian now. Chris or Ian for short.’’ Muscled arms crossed, he grimaces and shakes his head while looking down. Notwithstanding, the stern attitude melts into casual friendliness as a bright smile forms on his lips. ‘’But I do, don’t I? However, it’s not just me running the place. I’ve had some help.”

He turns around and motions for his colleague to come over. For a second she doesn’t move, darting glances to each of us like an alarmed cat checking for danger. Notwithstanding, though clearly tense, she warily approaches and halts at the man’s side.

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when Christian places a hand on her shoulder. “In fact, Gráinne here still helps me out every day. She’s basically the second owner.”

“I- I’m not,” she sputters in a soft Ulster accent, fumbling with her fingers and her cheeks flushed, “I just work here some days.”

“You’re a bit more than a colleague,” her co-worker remarks, shoulders lowered and his tone holding more affection than would be the case when talking to a friend. A warm glow seems to form around him, ignited by the fondness he harbours for her.

Funny, Jaebeom wears that same expression when he’s with me.

“I’m not.” Gráinne stiffens, each word dripping with venom as she steps away, grabs a serving tray and puts the order she was preparing before being called over on it. “Get back to work.”

Lips parted, Ian watches her as she moves past us as fast and agile like a hunting cat without any further acknowledgement of our presence. I hadn’t noticed before, but beneath her apron, she is dressed in clothes reminiscent of the Victorian era. “I know she can be harsh and isn’t easy to get along with, but I’ve never seen her act like this.”

“Och, let it pass. She has every right to be pissed with you since you put her on the spot like that,” Morgan jokes though nobody goes along with it.

She likes him yet doesn’t see it’s mutual. Should I say something? Then again, this is their business, not mine. Furthermore, why would they believe me, a stranger?

So I remain silent.

And leave this to blossom however it is meant to in Fate’s hands.

The icy glare Gráinne gives Brigid behind her back sends a chill down my spine. Evidently, she is a woman not cross paths with once angered. Withal, as the fair beauty looks over her shoulder, the other woman restores her professional composure.

“You okay?” Christian asks as he watches her retreat into the kitchen, done serving for now.

“I’m fine,” she says thickly, the next breath hitching in her throat. Her focus shifts to the moon-shaped amethyst pendant around his neck. The ghost of a rueful smile forms on her lips, but it fades as fast as it appeared. “It’s not like I’m having a vision or something. Help them.”

She waves her hand dismissively when he doesn’t move, lips parted to say something yet at a loss for words. Notwithstanding, although I can’t see his expression clearly, it’s evident her feigned nonchalance is hurting him. “Go on.”

He clears his throat and forces himself into a rigid posture, frowning as he shifts his attention back to us. Finger hovering over the tablet functioning as a till, he stares at the display with an empty and distant gaze, which is as dull as the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “What can I get you?”

We place our order and settle down at the table by the window, neither of us offering a word of solace or dedicated to his colleague’s behaviour.

After a while, Christian comes up to us to serve the food and beverages. As he puts the plates with our sandwiches down, he and Brigid exchange looks like siblings telepathically conversing. Whatever it is they mentally discussed, it only leaves the barista a slight bit less worried though the grave expression plaguing him remains as he returns to the counter.

An expression which must be similar to mine since it prompts Morgan to speak up regardless of having her teeth sunk into sourdough bread, looking equally as somber. “What’s on your mind, lass?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head and stir my cappuccino with the vintage silver spoon next to the porcelain cup, smiling at my own silly assumptions of what happened now four days ago. “Everything’s fine.”

“Except it’s not.” The raven-haired woman cocks an eyebrow, far from willing to dismiss my worries. “Now tell me. Or, well, us.”

“It’s something to do with your lover, isn’t it?” Brigid remarks, head tilted to the side as she assesses me while sipping at her Irish Breakfast Tea. Her features soften when she notices she has hit a sensitive snare, evidently meaning no harm.

I pull back in my seat as I take a sip of my coffee, flustered and cursing myself for being an open book. There is no way out of this conversation since the current company is like-minded in their refusal to simply let the topic pass before it has been discussed.

I swallow, put the cup on the dish again and clear my throat. Fumbling with the spoon and eyes cast on the cappuccino’s silky milk foam, I tell them of what I think happened. The story sounds strange to my own ears, like a terrible fairy tale told by a chaotic storyteller who can’t tell it in a manner that makes sense regardless of how he manipulates the plot.

Afraid of their reaction, unable to fathom the slightest bit of sympathy and empathy, I look from one to the other. Fortunately, my silence can be excused by drinking the remainder of the coffee although it’s futile since the thirst has nothing to do with bodily needs.

“Sounds familiar.” The woman in white scrunches her nose in disgust as she glares at Morgan.

“He was different,” Morgan sneers through gritted teeth, jaw clenched.

“In essence, he was similar to her lover.’’ Brigid points at me though she remains focused on my best friend, her voice dripping with venom. ‘’Or should I say, is similar?”

“Since when does it matter what he is?” Thin lips painted plum purple curl into a mirthless smile, onyx locks shaking in discontent. “How hypocritical you’ve become. Forgetful of the past.”

“A past worth forgetting. It’s never too late to change your political opinions, Morgan.”

Great, now I’m the one to open Pandora’s box. I should have kept my mouth shut, changed the topic.

Desperate for help yet knowing he cannot do anything, I look for Christian among the other customers. Expression stern and standing as rigid as a statue, he watches our table from behind the counter. It appears he, too, feels the sense of danger increasing as the conversation carries on. Notwithstanding, as becomes clear from the apologetic shake of the head when our eyes meet, he also knows his hands are tied at the moment.

We are on the same boat, waiting to see how the situation will develop.

Playthings of Chance and Fate.

“We’re not here to talk politics,’’ the woman in question answers, covering her mouth with her hands while chewing on a bite of goat cheese and pomegranate seeds, ‘’but to have lunch like civilized and amiable women. To help our friend.”

“You’re right,” Brigid concludes. Nonchalantly, she pierces a piece of egg in her salmon salad and puts its on the bread provided with it, a bread called St Michael’s Bannock according to the menu. Then, she points her fork at me. “But the best thing you can do is leave him while you still can.”

“L- Leave?” Utterly confused, I look at the woman calmly eating her lunch. “Why would I do that?”

Who is she? What’s more, who is she to tell me to leave Jaebeom after what I told her? He needs help and support, regardless of what may or may not be there beneath his skin.

Unless she is on to something I am not and judging by the current circumstances, I won’t get an answer even if I dare to ask. Henceforth, if only not to snap, I clear my throat and swallow the vile words dancing on the tip of my tongue.

“Morgan can tell you why. All I can say is that it’s better to avoid men like your lover in the first place.” She coughs and takes a sip of tea to wash down the salad leaf stuck in her throat while the woman with hair as black as night chuckles darkly. Luckily, it is only loud enough for me to hear and Brigid is too busy preventing herself from choking.

“Sétan-, I- I mean Seán was the one to leave me, not the other way around. And we mutually agreed to part ways in favour of our own well-being.”

“Sure you did. Totally didn’t resort to throwing plates and other pieces of furniture because he rejected you.”

Morgan growls something under her breath, glaring at the woman seated next to me. However, Brigid doesn’t seem to notice the reaction she has provoked or is indifferent to it. “Or washed clothes at the ford where he so ‘happened’ to pass by. Funny how he died soon after.”

Ford? There are quite a few in Ireland, so where and most importantly, when was this? Then again, what are these two on about? Washing clothes in a ford, people dying, politics, lovers to leave. They’re like arguing voices from ancient times.

Moreover, there is the question of Seán’s life. Is he alive or dead? One moment she speaks of him as if he’s still here, but then why would Brigid remark he’s dead?

“You shut your whoremouth, traitor!” With a loud bang, Morgan slams her fists on the table. She stands up with an expression that makes me cower in fear despite not being the target of her wrath.

Behind the counter, Christian slowly comes into motion, carefully moving with the likely intent to inconspicuously circle our table and jump in if necessary. He flinches as Gráinne places a hand on his arm, holding him hard enough for her knuckles to turn white when he tries to escape from her grip in order to prevent the worst from happening. Notwithstanding, whatever the plan was, it goes to waste since he decides to listen to what his colleague tells him. Sighing deeply, he stands down although he continues to observe us.

Gráinne follows his gaze, which seems to be directed at the brown-haired woman in white, her personal target of envy. Her wolfishly fierce expression falters, growing as bleak as the ash of a great bonfire.

This time he doesn’t see how she comes apart at the seams.

Brigid calmly finishes her tea, daps her mouth on the napkin and stands up too. “Get over your crush. There’s no future for you with him. As for you, Y/N,” eyes oddly alight with motherly affection, she turns her attention to me, “and as a piece of advice from a friend, end this relationship while you still can. There’s only heartbreak ahead.”

“Thank you, but,” a wistful smile forms on my lips regardless of the urge to give into the savage nagging inside, “I can’t leave him because I made a promise to stay.”

“I see. Perhaps you’ll prove me wrong and the flowers will bloom in spring.”

And with those final cryptic words, she leaves the café after waving at the tattooed barista.

Or so Brigid intends, but her way is cut off by his colleague.

While clumsily taking off her apron she storms outside, clenching it hard and shivering as if she’s on the brink of tears.

“Gráinne? Gráinne!” Christian runs after his colleague, pale and eyes wide with worry as he comes to a halt in the doorway. “Where are you going? Gráinne!”

Brigid places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a consoling squeeze. After giving him an encouraging slap on the back she sets off, leaving the man standing there like a defeated soldier.

“Poor lass,” Morgan whispers as she watches the female barista pass the window. Something in her tone hints at a level of familiarity between the two.

“You know her?” I ask, frowning.

“I don’t think she remembers me.” She glances at Chris, who has retreated behind the counter. He has his head bowed, smooth black locks hiding his face from the customers. Trembling fingers entwined to conceal his distress as best as possible, he resembles a man of religion fervently praying for forgiveness. “And neither does he. I saw him and his close friend, Finn, once in the woods. No, it was his brother, Jor… was it? When he came to the island. Was that… who was that?’’

A mist clouds her ocean blue eyes, lost in thoughts far removed from this world and time. ‘’He was there. As for Gráinne, we met… somewhere. There was smoke, a burning body. It was- It was at… where? Fuck, I can’t recall. I think it was at his fu-’’ she abruptly cuts herself short to correct herself with a strange undertone in her voice, “not long after I... saw them.”

‘’Morgan, are you alright? You’re looking awfully pale.’’

Instead of breaking free from the spell that has taken hold of her, the reverie only seems to deepen. Rocking side to side, she clutches her arms to her chest. Her skin, although naturally pale, grows sickly like a walking corpse.

‘’I- I’m supposed to remember. I’m one of the few that do. No, he and I are the only ones left that do. I can’t forget. If I do, everyone will. I can’t… I can’t!’’

‘’Morgan!’’ I stand up from my seat to rush to her side. Rubbing her arms, I try with all my might to bring her back to reality from the depths of deliria. ‘’It’s all right, Morgan, nobody is going to forget. Please listen to me and follow my voice, use it as a guide back to me from wherever it is you are. Please, come back to me.’’

‘’May I?’’ Christian has appeared with a glass of water, which he sets on the table before crouching down at the woman’s side as well.

Gently he grabs one of her hands and holds it, talking in a voice that is surprisingly steady and soothing in spite of what happened mere moments ago. It’s rougher and more gruff, making it hard to distinguish one word from another if you are not well-acquainted with the speaker.

In fact, it belongs to a completely different person. ‘’Morgan, as long as there are people who remember, there is nothing to fear. The past has taught us that what might seem like the end isn’t necessarily truly the end. We are still here. We remember because you do and you remember because we do. You’re safe and sound. Instead, return and help me make her remember.’’

‘’Why, of everyone, did you have to fall for her?’’ Gaze blinded by her mind, Morgan reaches out to tenderly run her fingers through the barista’s hair. ‘’What makes her special?’’

‘’She understands.’’ A similar fog veils the misty white and dark eyes, Chris or, rather, the stranger pulled into the same realm of consciousness as my friend. ‘’She broke the chains that bound me and doesn’t allow me to slip into the shadows of what I once was.’’

‘’You’re all the same, aren’t you?’’

‘’It’s rare to find understanding and acceptance in a world naturally turned against you. So, please help me. Help me find her.’’ His voice breaks, the begging words coming out high-pitched like a whining wolf. ‘’Help me find my reason to stay in this world and not forget nor be forgotten.’’

The veil lifts, the spell broken with the whimpered plea.

Christian falls back, but manages to catch himself before his head hits the tiles. Refusing every helping hand from the customers hurrying over, he scrambles to his feet. Fortunately, he accepts the chair I offer him when his dangerous swaying almost causes him to hit his head against the wall.

‘’Are you okay?’’

‘’Yeah, I’m only dizzy.’’ The hiss he lets out flows over into a sound akin to a growl. ‘’And a splitting headache.’’

Morgan has a better return to reality, completely fine aside from a dazed mind. ‘’What happened?’’

‘’You tell me.’’ I search her face for clues, a sliver of the knowledge she is lying. However, I find none.

She is telling the truth.

‘’I… I don’t know. It’s the first time.’’ She clears her throat, brow furrowed. As if having heard a noise, she snaps her head to the side. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Drink your tea, eat a sandwich and go home early from work.”

She hands the glass of water to Christian. ‘’And you, you drink this and stay seated for at least five more minutes until the dizziness has faded. Are you nauseous?’’

‘’No. Although,’’ he dry heaves, ‘’never mind.’’

‘’Make it ten. You look as pale as a banshee.’’

‘’Speak for yourself.’’

‘’You’d make a pretty one, though,’’ Morgan muses when she returns her attention to me. ‘’Beauty makes suffering leading to death easier.’’

Apparently, her return to reality has left her as mad as a hatter so perhaps it wasn’t as good as I initially thought.

“Why on earth would you say that? Besides, what kind of comparison is that, us and a banshee?”

“One based on truth. Now,” she shoves the remainder of her goat cheese and pomegranate sandwich to me, “eat, rest up and get cracking again. We’ll be in touch and visit the new café I found yesterday later, alright?”

“Hey, not so fast. Where are you headed off to?’’

She can’t be serious. There is no way she is unaffected by what happened.

“Attagirl,’’ Morgan says as if I promised to heed her words, ignoring what I actually said. ‘’By the way, ignore what Brigid said and stay with your man. It’s plain to see how he makes you feel.”

“It is?”

“You’re glowing and you come alive when you speak of him. It reminds me of how I was with Seán.” She starts as if awakened from a dream, but tries to hide her awkwardness behind a sheepish smile. “Well, then, take care.”

“You too.’’ The two simple words, otherwise casual, are now carefully chosen in order to not to trigger another ‘attack’.

My gut tight and skin prickling thanks to her inhuman behaviour, I watch the raven-haired woman leave. I hold my wrist, my pulse too rapid to be healthy beneath my thumb.

Like I am at death’s door.

The next morning, there’s an article in the newspaper. A man’s been found dead at the edge of the bogs near town. The cause of his demise is unknown, but there are witness accounts who said they heard a high screech late the night before. In the days that follow, their names show up one by one in funerary advertisements.

A week later, none of the witnesses are alive. Moreover, nobody has heard the screeching since, though everyone remembers the description of the sound.

It was like the howl of a banshee.

#JB #Jaebeom #Im Jaebeom #GOT7 #GOT7 smut #Jaebeom fanfiction #GOT7 Werewolf AU #GOT7 x Reader #Jaebeom x Reader #Jaebeom smut #Werewolf!Jaebeom #Werewolf AU #Werewolf!JB #Not by the Moon

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nctsjiho · 3 years

Text

2 AM Healing [Part 2 of ‘2 PM Suffering’]

Click here for Part 1

warnings: explicit language, consumption of alcohol and medication, suggested attempted suicide (overdosing on pills and alcohol), anxiety

era: April 2021

❀ Things seem to take a big turn after Taeyong and Doyoung go check up on JiHo

“Wah~~ I can’t wait to get in my bed.” Haechan sighed dramatically as the 4 boys from the 5th floor were waiting on Taeyong to open the door.

The shoot had dragged on for a while, along with some other schedules and now it was a little after 2 at night. Johnny and Haechan had been whining about how tired they were and couldn’t wait to sleep. “At least take a shower first Haechan, you stink.” The older of the two snickered, earning a shocked expression from the smaller boy. “Hey! I don’t-”

“It’s past midnight and we have neighbours. Be quiet already.” Doyoung sounded annoyed which had the two boys shut up quickly. “And you, why are you taking so long.” Doyoung rolled his eyes at the leader who had yet to open the door. Taeyong rolled his eyes as well at the attitude of Doyoung and before he could say anything else, Taeyong pushed the door open.

Meanwhile, inside the dorm, JiHo had curled up into Xiaojun’s side. She had been sleeping for close to 12 hours straight now, the severity of her exhaustion very clear to Xiaojun. The only time JiHo had woken up, was when Xiaojun had gotten up to clean up the food he dropped when first entering her room. He quickly cleaned and went to the bathroom before joining a whiny JiHo back in her bed. He had sung a few more songs for her and decided to go to sleep as well after she had comfortably slotted her body into his side.

Completely forgetting that he had to send updates to Doyoung, Taeyong, or at least Kun about JiHo - partly because his phone was out of battery and otherwise because he physically couldn’t move because of JiHo’s deadly grip on him - he drifted off into his own dream world and hadn’t woken up since.

As the residents of the dorm arrived the first place Doyoung went to was JiHo’s room. His hand had barely made contact with the door handle when Taeyong stopped him from entering. “Is this a good idea? JiHo’s probably sleeping at this time.” Doyoung scoffed at the comment. “We haven’t heard from her since we left, for all we know she’s dead in there and you’re not even going to check.” “Kun said Xiaojun-” “Well Xiaojun hasn’t picked up his fucking phone once!”

The leader hadn’t seen Doyoung this mad before. He knew he was only worried about JiHo, so he could excuse his anger completely. Yet despite that, Taeyong was still taken aback by the amount of poison was spilling from the black-haired man’s lips. “Okay, let’s check.”

Doyoung softly pushed the door open, such a contrast to his earlier tense body language. Upon opening the door the light which came from the hallway illuminated the room, revealing how messy it was.

JiHo wasn’t the tidiest member when it came to her own room, but the visual Doyoung and Taeyong were met with was quite shocking. Pillows and blankets seemed to be thrown off the bed and even to the other side of the room. But among all the mess a certain few items had caught Doyoung’s eye.

Rather confused as to why Doyoung wasn’t commenting on Xiaojun and JiHo comfortably - a bit too comfortable to Taeyong’s liking - sleeping on her bed, Taeyong eyed his dorm mate closely. He watched as Doyoung reached out to a small white container, one he wasn’t familiar with.

Suddenly Doyoung let out a chuckle. Not a friendly-sounding one though. Not friendly at all. “What’s this?!” He suddenly yelled which startled not only Taeyong but also the two sleeping friends. Xiaojun jumped up from beside JiHo as he saw the two older members watching them.

“Doyoung hyung-” “Pills and alcohol?” He sighed in disbelief. JiHo was still laying down in bed, her eyes squinted as she tried not to strain them. “Lim JiHo? Please tell me you didn’t drink.” When JiHo only fell back down in her spot from her previous hoisted up position Doyoung already knew the answer.

He turned to Xiaojun, who was wide-eyed, seemingly terrified about the way he was woken up. “You know how dangerous this is?” Doyoung shook the pill bottle in front of the younger boy’s eyes. “Why didn’t you answer your damn phone?! If you found JiHo drinking and taking pills you should’ve taken her to the hospital!” “I told him I was fine.” The girl mumbled from where she had buried her face into her pillow. “Of course you would tell him that!”

“Or did you give these to her? JiHo normally doesn’t drink or take medication. So did you?” Xiaojun frantically shook his head. He’d never do such a thing and the fact his hyung thought he would, made him feel cornered, not being able to defend himself.

Doyoung’s chest heaved and so many thoughts crossed his mind. “Let’s calm down for a bit okay?” Taeyong carefully took a step closer to the two boys and placed a hand on Doyoung’s shoulder. “Calm down? This kid didn’t do anything after knowing JiHo mixed alcohol and pills and afterwards climbed into bed with her!” “That’s enough!” Johnny yelled from the doorway. “I’m just stating the facts!” “GET OUT!” A higher-pitched yell resonated through the room, followed by a few painful coughs.

All eyes were on JiHo’s heaving figure, as the boys were afraid to say or do anything. Everyone but one. “JiHo-” “Doyoung can you shut up for one goddamn second?!” JiHo yelled, sounding so desperate. “I’m just trying to help.” “You’re not only worsening my headache, but you are also chewing out my friend who has been taking care of me while I was alone. Xiaojun did nothing wrong, so let him be.”

A few seconds of silence followed before Doyoung approached his younger friend. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here, but he shouldn’t have let you sit here after taking those pills and drinking. You know how bad this could’ve ended-” “For God’s sake, oppa you don’t get it. You weren’t here, so you don’t know what happened.” She groaned in defeat. Doyoung’s stubbornness wasn’t helping her growing headache, the one she had been able to forget due to her hours of sleep.

“I don’t have to be here to know that mixing these is bad!” “Can you stop?” “Do you want to die?” “YES!” JiHo stood up from her position, staring directly into Doyoung’s eyes with watery eyes. Everyone in the room collectively gasped at the youngest’s answer. Haechan who had joined after hearing the commotion felt his eyes fill with tears as well.

JiHo gulped as she felt the crop in her throat forming and blocking her airways. The two best friends just stared into each other’s eyes not knowing what to say. Doyoung was still processing what had just been said and JiHo was going over all the ways to explain herself, but she couldn’t find the right words.

“Is that why you took these?” Taeyong reached out to grab the bottle from Doyoung’s grip. His question caused the girl to break eye contact with Doyoung and she immediately shook her head. “No. I never thought- That wasn’t my intention. I didn’t even know this was alcohol. I didn’t mean it.” Her voice trailed off.

“How could you say something like that?” Doyoung’s voice was dangerously low and it scared JiHo. “I didn’t mean to. I promise I didn’t.” Doyoung just shook his head in disbelief before facing Xiaojun. In just a split second he had grabbed onto the collar of Xiaojun’s shirt and pushed him against the wall.

“Why didn’t you do anything?!” Doyoung’s voice quivered, tears already threatening to fall. “Why didn’t you take her to a hospital?” Doyoung lifted his right hand, balled into a fist. At the sight, the two older members rushed towards him. Johnny and Taeyong pulled back the yelling man, preventing him from potentially hurting Xiaojun. “WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ANYONE?!” Doyoung had completely lost it. Tears streamed down his face as he felt the great amount of guilt take over him. If only he had been there with JiHo instead of Xiaojun, that’s what he thought.

All the members stood there wordlessly as Doyoung continued to sob. Haechan crying silently in the doorway and the other members being completely lost.

Not being able to take it anymore, knowing that her members were making assumptions in their heads about why she took those pills, JiHo decided to explain the whole situation. From why she took the pills and drank the alcoholic beverage, to how Xiaojun had ended up sleeping next to her and why he hadn’t messaged anyone.

“The alcohol helped my anxiety and the pills helped my headache for a split second before it came back worse. I didn’t take many, I’m fine.” “How can tell us you’re fine when you’re suffering like this. Alone.” Doyoung stood up from where he fell to his knees earlier. The sobbing had stopped, but he was still very emotional. “Because I didn’t want to worry you guys, I’m already being a big inconvenience.” The girl explained sadly.

“You’re not an inconvenience to us JiHo.” Johnny said. JiHo just sighed, thinking of how the boys weren’t allowed to talk to her publicly, how they had to be careful around her afraid to ask something she couldn’t talk about, how they always worried about her even if she told them they shouldn’t. No matter what the boys said, JiHo felt like such a burden these past weeks.

JiHo fell back down into her bed and pulled her knees to her chest. “I didn’t mean it when I said I wanted to die. That wasn’t why I took the pills. I haven’t slept in days because of these headaches and I was desperate to get some sleep. I didn’t even know that juice was alcoholic, but it helped me calm down. It was the first time in days I started to feel a bit more relaxed. It’s not that I want to die. It’s just that, some days, I rather feel nothing than feel the shitty way I’m feeling almost daily.”

Haechan who had been standing in the same spot this entire time walked up to JiHo and sat down next to her, pulling her into his side. “You should’ve just told us.” He watched as his tears fell onto JiHo’s shoulder and got absorbed by her grey tee.

“We can’t help you if you don’t talk to us.” Taeyong had grabbed her hand and let his thumb draw random patterns on the back of her hand. JiHo nodded, wordlessly telling him she understood.

Doyoung cleared his throat causing everyone to look at him. “I’m sorry Xiaojun. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. You were only taking care of JiHo.” “Hyung, it’s okay.” Xiaojun directly said, but Doyoung shook his head. “No, it’s not okay. I acted and said things before I thought and I didn’t even hear you guys out. I’m also sorry towards you JiHo.” JiHo just nodded in acceptance of the apology.

He then settled down on the bed next to JiHo. “Please stop keeping things like this to yourself. I know you might not like talking to us about it and I know with the way I acted right now, that you might never want to talk to me about these kinds of things first. But if you’re ever suffering like this, you can talk to any one of the boys okay? So if you don’t want to talk to me.” Doyoung turned to face Xiaojun. “ I completely trust Xiaojun to listen to you and be able to take care of you.” Xiaojun nodded firmly which caused JiHo to smile.

As JiHo felt the love of her members intensify, she let herself melt into Haechan’s embrace, feeling her headache subside until it was almost gone. Johnny pulled Xiaojun in a side hug to comfort him after all the commotion that went on. Suddenly JiHo noticed something in the doorway. A head of hair seemingly floating from one side of the door. “Mark?”

At the mention of his name Mark popped his head from behind the wall, the boy wide-eyed. “What are you?” “Haechan messaged us saying Doyoung and Xiaojun were fighting.” Yuta explained as he unexpectedly walked into the room. Doyoung and Taeyong both glared at Haechan, disappointed that he felt the need to make the other members worry. “I’m sorry, I panicked.” The boy pouted which caused the older two to soften.

After Yuta had walked in, Mark, Jungwoo, Taeil and Jaehyun followed. “How long have you guys been out there?” JiHo asked worried, hoping they hadn’t picked up on everything that happened. “A few minutes.” Jungwoo smiled sadly and the girl sighed. “Listen, Doyoung is right. You have 23 guys ready to hear you out. Don’t be afraid to talk to us.” Taeil sat down on the bed. JiHo nodded and looked around the room meeting all the boys’ eyes and seeing the amount of love and care in them. “Thank you guys.”

“Group hug!” Haechan yelled to which both Yuta and Jungwoo repeated the words and suddenly JiHo was suffocating because of the 10 guys who had thrown themselves on top of her. Luckily her bed was just a thick mattress on the floor or otherwise it had broken for sure.

And even though she could barely breathe beneath the pressure of 10 bodies on top of her, she basked in the love she was receiving and felt all her stress and anxiety leave her body for once. For once she knew for certain that she was going to have fewer sleepless nights ahead of her.

---

Side note: I hyped myself up this morning to write a good part 2 only for it to end up like this? jk, I love the story and the little fluff at the end, I just imagined it to pan out way differently (more angsty). It’s definitely not the most exciting thing to read but if you’ve made it this far, first of all thank you <3 and secondly I think this just gives closure to part 1.

Thx to anon for suggesting this though and if there is anything that has been mentioned before that you want to get some extra information on or just things/scenarios you want to read, let me know! My inbox is open so feel free to send me anything <3

#jiho.writings #nct 24th member #nct addition #nct angst #wayv angst #nct scenarios #nct imagines #wayv imagines #nct doyoung imagines #nct doyoung angst #doyoung angst #xiaojun imagines #xiaojun angst #nct fluff #nct female member #nct extra member #nct additional member #kpop!addition #kpop!oc

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paimon-rambles · 3 years

Note

hellooo, is the request still open? If it yes, can I request fics for xiao x doctor/healer female reader? reader is a normal human who is working at BuBu Pharmacy and accidentally meet xiao & traveler when they are injured.

tysm (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

Sorry for being a bit inactive, I've been being feeling meh🤧. I feel like I dragged this a bit- I'm sorry.

Remedies

Characters: Xiao

Summary: It was a day like any other working at the BuBu Pharmancy-that was until an Adeptus and Outlander barge in

Icon credit: Leheia

You have heard many tales of the Adeptus growing up, many stories and myths behind them, of their culture and their play in the archon war. However, you never had the fancy of coming face to face to one- well that was until today.

You lived a pretty normal life in Liyue. Working at BuBu Pharmacy along with Qiqi, your work was simple and it gave a good paycheck. You're a healer, mending wounds from battle-scarred warriors, or helping heal an infection. However, you were commonly found handing out medicine at the front desk more than anything.

You often see familiar faces of previous customers that stopped by to receive their meditation. Occasionally you have met some more interesting clients however they were never too enticing. And you thought that was how your work life was going to carry on. A bag of medication here, a customer other there, repeat till next paycheck.

You were thankful to have Qiqi by your side most of the time although she wasn't much of the conversationalist it was better than having no one to talk to, even if you were doing most of the talking.

" Goodbye, thank you for stopping by. I hope the headaches stop." You said handing the customer a small bag of medication. You waved them a quick goodbye as they disappeared from your line of vision.

Unlike most days, it was only you behind the desk. Qiqi was busy with other responsibilities and you were placed in charge of handing the listed medicine to clients. Scribbling off a name on a clipboard, you leaned against the desk waiting for the next customer to arrive.

Earlier in the day, you overheard a few of the Liyue guards stationed near the Pharmacy buzz about a battle that broke near Mt. Hula. They didn't share too many details on the source of the outbreak as they were called over to focus on another anomaly, but you manage to piece together that it had something to do with a sigil of permission. Note to self: Don't piss off the Adepti.

A few minutes pass and you were still meet with the eerily silence of the Pharmacy with the slight sound of the breeze. You caught a glimpse of a few civilians but they showed no interest in buying herbs or requiring medical attention. For the most part, the city seemed rather deserted. Sighing you turned on your heel to go to the back room.

However before a second could pass, you nearly jumped as three figures dashed into the Pharmacy. One of the two strangers was a young boy who had golden hair tied back into a braid, his clothes were particular as well. Cleary this boy wasn't from any of the seven nations. An Outlander. Beside the boy was a pixie-like figure, she had white hair and carried a celestial-like cape. The pair seemed rather familiar, well at least from what you heard from Qiqi. A few weeks prior Baizhou enlightened you on a pair of outlanders that tried to buy some medicine without making an appointment. By the description he provided it matched the blonde.

The third figure intrigued you the furthest. He looked around the same age as the outlander and yourself. He carried some intriguing items on his person. He had short raven hair accompanied by green undertones, his eyes are painted amber, vicious yet mysterious. His clothing was also rather unusual. He dressed in a sleeveless white shirt, dark pants, and leather gloves. What was peculiar most was the tattoo located on his arm. It had a slight teal glow to it and the pattern seemed complex. It finally clicked to you. It's an Adeptus.

Before you made more inferences and observations, it finally hit you that two strangers just ran into the Pharmacy with no warning. Both men's skin were littered with gashes. Small crimson cuts can be found in the areas where skin is shown, the gashes didn't seem to be severe but still would require some treatment. The blonde's eyes darted to you in a panic. " May we stay here for a while? (Omg he talks)."

It took you a second to register what they inquired of but you nodded your head. " sure." That was all you manage to muster. The trio went to sit down, sheathing their weapons away. " We won't be staying long." The raven-haired boy said, his tone cold. The mysterious aura that radiated off him, intrigued you.

You were once again submerged in uncomfortable silence. Your mind was trying to piece together a question to ask both men but no idea came to thought. You could already tell that the Adeptus was judging you his amber eyes burned into your head. Avoiding eye contact you instead focused your gaze on the pixie. Her crown thing was pretty interesting.

Finally, the blonde broke the silence that threatens to consume you whole. " Uh thank you again for allowing us to stay here, we'll be out of here soon." He flashed you an innocent smile which soothed your worries but only by a bit. " You guys can stay as long as you want. I'll get some bandages for your injuries." You finally croaked out, turning to grab said items.

You returned with the material handing out a handful of the clothed bandages to each of them. You watched as the blonde slowly placed the fabric on the cuts that threatened to worsen. The Adeptus on the other hand stared at the bandages you handed to him. He eyed the items as if they were a foreign object, but his eyes didn't sparkle in curiosity- they were just dull. Does this guy ever smile?

" These can help with the smaller cuts. The gush wounds, however, will require something different but not to worry you came in at the right time, I can use my elemental healing to mend those injuries before they get infected." The raven hair boy broke out of his dull stare from the items in his gloved hands, his eyes now glued to you. His gaze felt like it was pricing through your soul, intimidated would be an understatement. The blonde on the other hand was more grateful at your suggestion, the pixie fairy, who you learned is "Paimon" even chirped her own thanks.

Your eyes glimpsed at the raven-haired boy, his injuries looked more severe compared to the blonde who you soon learned was " Aether" as Paimon called him. " I'll tend to your wounds first," you murmured to the boy. He looked at you coldly, his posture shifted as more tension built. " Your injuries are more severe... I.... I just want to help," you mumbled. The boy turned away in thought, his eyes squinting at whatever was running through his head. " Listen it's either your injuries become infected, which will be a pain to resolve later or you let me help-which will be painless and you'll be leaving with no infections." You added, you didn't mean to make your voice sound harsh but now wasn't time to argue. The Adepti seemed taken back by this, his brows furrowing at your bold statement.

" Fine." So he does talk, you chuckled to yourself silently. Slowly you approached the boy, trying to not come off as a threat. You gently hovered the palm on your hand over one of the gashes that decorated his skin, the boy tensed at the touch but quickly relaxed. Silently you called for your vision, feeling your respective element pulsing to your fingertips as you mended the wound. A few seconds passed and after removing your hand, a smile crept to your lips satisfy to see the gash no longer littered on the boy's skin. You repeated this action a few times, mending the rest of the gashes. The boy on the other hand finally started to place the bandages on the smaller cuts. His shoulder drooped becoming more welcomed to yout touch.

Curious of the events that brought the trio here you asked, " may I ask what happened?" The raven-haired boy made no indication that he was going to respond but Paimon gladly answered. " There was a fight at Mt. Hula. Something really riled up the guards."

Oh, so this is what the guards were gossiping about. " I once again want to apologize for storming in- from what I heard BuBu Pharmacy was the best place to go for medicine and such in Liyue. And as you see from our current state..." Aether paused glancing down to his injured body. " Xiao and I will pay you for the trouble." Xiao, so that's his name. " We wouldn't even be in this mess if you haven't been sticking your nose into places it shouldn't be." Xiao retort sharply. Aether paid no mind to what he said. Man, is this guy is a cryo user- he's colder than Chongyun.

" Alright, I've finished mending your injuries, if you feel any discomfort let me know and I can get some painkillers." Xiao's head slightly perked up at the mention of 'painkillers' but said nothing about it. Instead, his attention went to look at the areas where crimson-colored injuries use to be before being cleansed by you.

You turned your attention to the outlander, reaching out to start cleaning his wounds. Before you could start however a voice pulled you back. " What's your name?" Xiao had his back to you but the tone of his voice wasn't so cold, it was warmer and that brought a smile to your lips. " I'm y/n." You replied turning to glance at him. ( While Aether waited patiently to be healed)

Xiao glanced over his shoulder, his gaze meeting yours.

" Thank you Y/n."

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader

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soft-angelic-kiss · 3 years

Text

We’re all a little bit crazy (6)

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

therapsit! Izuku x Patient! Bakugou x Patient! Todoroki x Patient! Shinsou x Patient! Reader

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Chapter 6 trigger warnings- mentions of Tourette's (i don't think that’s an ACTUAL trigger but it couldn’t be hurt to mention) mentions of self harm (thinking they're indestructible.) And mentions of counting/taking pills + medications.

I’m gonna need you guys to bare with me! I really don’t know what a mental hospital is like and so i tried my best with the information a friend gave me :)

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 «────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Walking through the dining hall, Izuku kept his head up and tried to remain tall and strong to the other patients when he heard a squeal and watched the tuff of h/c go up into the air. Immediately Izuku was on a high alert. As he sped up his pace the same as Bakugou, who immediately started yelling

“Gah dammit shitty hair! I don’t you to stay-”

The blonde's voice was easily cut off through the laughter of a red head, and another blonde.

“Oh chill it Baku-” the blonde's head threw itself backwards as the end of his sentence “gOU-” escaped his lips. The red head was immediately making sure he was okay, even with Y/N in his arms. Rubbing his neck and asking about cramps

Izuku smiled softly and watched them all interact, being able to tell that they were all best friends. He hummed as Y/N bounced her way over to him and hung on his arm with a smile “YOU CAME” they yelled in excitement making everyone smile softly.

The red head was the first to make a move as he smiled to the greenette “Hey! I’m Ejirou Kirishima!” he smiled as he pounded his fist together mushing together already forming scars, and bruises against his knuckles.

It caused Izuku to check out all of his other scars that littered his body, his hands and arms mostly, Y/N must’ve seen him looking Kirishima over and hummed softly whispering into his ear “he thinks he’s indestructible..” Izuku nodded in understanding

“I’m D-” his sentence once again was cut short by a scrunching of his shoulders and a yell of “ENK” before he returned to his previous stance and said “Denki Kaminari!” he smiled softly and waved. Izuku waved back, he decided he would look at their files later after he laid Y/N down for bed.

“What’s dinner today?” Y/N looked to their friends as they ushered Izuku to the table that they sat at, the setting arrangement a little squishier than normal due to the extra body that was added, On one side Kirishima, Denki, and Shinsou sat together and on the other side sat Izuku, Y/N, Todoroki and Bakugou.

Bakuou was the first to respond “they have beef stroganoff… and steamed carrots...” Y/N pouted and nodded “I’m not surprised Katsu..”

The group let out a little disappointed groan collectively. The cafeteria wasn’t the MOST delightful place to have their dinner, but they didn’t have the choice, especially on beef stroganoff night.

Izuku thought their food opinions were interesting as he let them all engage in conversation quietly observing each of them with a smile. They all looked so happy and content when they were together.

Bakugou's attitude was calm, Shinsou was engaging in conversation. Shoto was speaking more than Izuku thought was possible for him, Denki’s tics, at least that’s what Izuku had deemed them to be, had calmed down and Kirishima wasn’t hitting anything at all.

Each of them were so content with each other, he wondered why they were kept apart. Y/N finished her food and each of the boys told her that they were proud of her. Which made bright blushes rise across her whole body with a smile.

Eventually their dishes were taken from them and they were all sent down to the nurses station for their nightly meds before they would be sent upstairs for the night, Izuku followed after the group seeing as they were ready for the nightly meds.

Checking the time and seeing it was 9:00 pm on the dot, he waited patiently for them to receive their meds and come back. He quietly heard the mutter from Y/N as they counted which meds were there, “..seroquel and gabitril.. For sleep.. And Abilify for depression.`` They took their meds and smiled at Izuku, motioning him to follow them as they bounded up the stairs.

Izuku hummed softly following them back up the stairs placing his clipboard on a bedside table as he watched them get ready for bed as he smiled softly, when Y/N finally laid down humming into their mountain of pillows, all doctors approved.

“Good night… thank you for hanging out with me..” Izuku smiled as your voice echoed quietly in the small room causing his heart to flutter with how soft and sleepy you sounded.

“Of course. I hope you sleep well Y/N” he hummed softly as he exited the room hearing your snores. Shortly after his words slipped past his lips, he exited and saw all the other boys' doors were closed. Figuring they were asleep too. He headed down to the staff room to put away his clipboard when he remembered that he wanted to check on Kirishima’s and Kaminaris files.

He slowly searched through the last names, conveniently the two names were placed right together making sure that he wouldn’t forget about the other. With a soft hum he pulled out Kirishima’s file first.

F I L E 26

(Patient Name) Ejirou Kirishima (Patient #785)

(Date admitted) 10-25-2015

(Patient age) 22

(Patient disorder) Psychosis, Congenital insensitivity to pain.

(History/cause) Patient has seemed to believe that he is indestructible. He walks into walls and punches glass things, often resulting in scars and bleeding around his body, his mother has stated that he’s done this since he was little but always assumed he would grow out of it. He never did.

(Has patient...)

-attempted suicide?

-attempted homicide?

-attempted any act of self-harm?

-attempted violence on past employees?

-attempted escape?

(Other). He’s very affectionate to those around him but often tries to prove his manliness to those around him. He always smashes his fists together declaring the manliness/womanlyness of those around him.

(Danger level) 7/10

Izuku let out a breath as he quietly looked at the file over one more time before placing it back. He felt sorry for the red head but it explained the scar littered on his body. It also explained why he was calling everything manly.

F I L E 27

(Patient Name) Denki Kaminari (Patient #786)

(Date admitted) 4-20-12

(Patient age) 21

(Patient disorder) Tourette Syndrome, depression, anxiety

(History/cause) Patient was diagnosed with Tourettes around 6 years old, but his parents have said he’s always displayed symptoms of it even from toddler age. He stuck his finger in an electrical socket when he was 7 and it caused the scars going up his arms.

(Has patient...)

-attempted suicide?

-attempted homicide?

-attempted any act of self-harm?

-attempted violence on past employees?

-attempted escape?

(Other). He’s very cheeking, loves telling jokes and is relativity an easy going guy, he rarely has attacks but when he does i advise all employees to watch out because he gets urges to touch electricity, and mess with electrical setups

(Danger level) 5/10

Izuku carefully placed the file back into the cabinet as he let out a breath. No wonder they all saw something in each other. They all had such similar stories, even if they weren’t exactly the same they all found solace in each other.

Y/N was missing a mother, father and brother figure in her life, which is why she pursued a relationship with Todoroki, Bakugou and Kirishima. Who all gave off the vibes that the poor younger needed to thrive.

Todoroki was missing his sister and brother, which is why he connected so well with Denki and Y/N, they both held similar qualities to the two he had lost..

Bakugou needed stable, but fun people to help him realize what a calm world this really was.. And that’s why he bonded with Todoroki, Shinsou. Kirishima, Denki and Y/N. They were all as equally calm as they were cheeky, meaning they could help Bakugou with whatever problem was needed.

Shinsou was missing his parents and his little baby sister, so while he still had the parents to bond with during visiting hours. He treated each of these people as if they were a little sibling to him.

Kaminari finally felt accepted because none of them batted an eye when his tics happened, and it made him feel like he finally had a family, and he was finally happy..

Kirishima felt protected. While he enjoyed feeling power and being manly.. Sometimes it was nice to feel protected. None of them ever questioned how manly he was.. So he felt at peace

Nothing could separate them. Nothing at all, Izuku was sure of it. He placed everything back before he finally headed back up to his own room. Finishing his nightly routine as he thought of the group he’d met today as he started falling into dream land. «────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────» @buckyneedsplums @lazywriterfullofideas09 @notchittatenn @psycho-101 @toodarktoseethelight @unlogical-ella if you’re crossed out that’s because it wouldn’t let me tag you :( «────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

a/n: HI GUESS WHO’S BACK FROM THE DEAD!! In a moment of clarity i finally decided to work on this chapter. It’s been hard for me but you know i finally did it! Like i stated earlier I've never been to a mental hospital so i don’t know what it’s like in there. I tried my best using the information friend had given me. Thank you guys for sticking with the story for as long as you have!

#mha bakugou #patient #my hero x reader #i forget how to write tags #i'm lazy #feel free to like and reblog #i love you #drink water #send in asks if you want

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rum-and-shattered-dreams · 2 years

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Life Updates and Status Report for The Man Downstairs (Feb. 16, 2022)

Firstly, the status report!

I've had trouble weaving things together for this chapter and making a few decisions on how it plays out. It's like trying to wrangle several threads of different textures through the eye of a needle at once and they're too bulky to use a threader XD

But! I’m hoping to have it figured out soon. Preferably by this Saturday but if not, then by next Saturday. (And honestly, I could use some encouragement on it like, what are you looking forward to seeing or what questions do you want answered etc...)

Hope everyone else is doing as well as possible in these messed up times and if not, then I’m sending hugs and hope that things will get better soon.

And now for life updates - long post under the cut:

Sorry for being silent for so long. I honestly didn’t want to think about a lot of this so I’ve been putting off writing about it... And talking to most people. Which is an issue and I’m sorry for disappearing. I could at least communicate with others about their lives more. It’s just been easier and taken less energy to distract myself (though even that has its own issues attached)

It’s been A LOT for a while again. Some of this is recap from things I’ve already mentioned but here’s the rundown of the past several months to year:

I thought I had made some progress on treating my ADHD but the meds may or may not have caused a colitis flare up. I stopped taking them to deal with that. In the meantime, I tried an alternate medication and the lack of benefits from it was not worth the side-effects. So I stopped taking that one too.

As for the colitis, I needed a colonoscopy which, without insurance is hella expensive, of course. I tried to get financial aid but the only facility close enough to me to make it worth it only did routine ones for seniors, not diagnostic ones.

So I contacted several Gastroenterology offices.

Not a single one answered their phone. I left a message at every office in town. Multiple times.

Only one called me back.

I ended up getting the money together to get it done, all the while worried that the inflammation might have finally turned into that cancer that the doctors from my teen years promised it would. If it had, there was no way I could afford treatment so it was basically the “guess I’ll die” meme. (I even asked a few friends to be keepers of the notes for this fic just in case. At least someone would have access and could post them if things went sideways.)

But the good-ish news is that it’s still just inflammation. The bad news is that the meds for it are $200 a month.

I’m sticking to supplements instead because they’ve gotten me this far with less issues than my previous attempts at using prescription drugs. And this way, my Chinese medicine doctor knows what she’s working with. (She’s the one who wanted the colonoscopy results just to be sure there wasn’t anything that needed different medical attention.) And hey, at least the internal bleeding has stopped so that’s a step in the right direction.

Next up, I’m going to try the ADHD meds again to see what happens and see about trying other prescriptions for that since none of the supplements I’ve tried have done much for it.

While all that was going on, my cat developed a lump on her back hip. Turned out it was cancerous and she had to have her leg amputated. She’s recovering now and I’m waiting on results to see if the margins were clean or if she needs more treatment (which would mean she might only have a year or two left vs her normal lifespan if the margins are clean). And of course that was another huge expense.

And hey bonus stress points for getting the results on my cat having cancer on the same day as my dad’s skin biopsies came back as positive for cancer too! That’s basically my entire real life support network right there!

Luckily dad’s cancerous spots were removed and we got clean results back. He’s healing up well now.

But seriously, I’d be homeless without him. And that’s whole other thing because he’s in his 80′s and I’m terrified for what happens when he’s not here anymore. (which sounds selfish but we are also pretty close. He’s the same kind of autistic as me so we’ve kind of shared an understanding with each other that no one else really gets. Plus we have the understanding/shared experience of taking care of my mom before she passed).

I’ve tried so hard to hold down a job and make it on my own and my health flares up every time. Sometimes I want to scream because I tried to do everything “right” by what adults told me while growing up. I don’t smoke. (allegic to it actually). I rarely drink (which is funny considering my screen names) and when I do, I actually can’t get drunk. I’ve tried and actually stopped trying because what’s the point of spending all that money on basically just needing to pee a lot more than usual? I studied hard and tried to get good grades (that’s a whole different rant). I didn’t do drugs (from how others describe it, I feel like I’m high all the time already. I don’t need more of it.) Then everything went tits up in my senior year of high school and I’m chronically ill and can’t shake the feeling that I’m a total waste of resources now.

(I just want to be a house spouse so bad. Why am I ace and didn’t know for so long that it screwed up my self-image and relationships/ability to form and keep them to the point where I believe I’m not worthy of a partner? I always wanted a spouse and at least one adopted child and now I’m just plain too old. So yeah... depression has been a thing too.) I’m looking into the path toward getting on disability but I was hoping to get citizenship first (I’m only a resident now) and that requires focus and at least some amount of studying which the whole ADHD thing is doing it’s best to get in the way of. Not to mention the social anxiety of having to do the interview as an autistic person who has gone mute in situations like that before. But a few friends have offered to help and I’m super grateful for it and hopeful that I can make progress.

Everything hasn’t been terrible though! I got to meet a few online friends in person recently and that was amazing. And I got to spend some time at a resort with another friend. It’s like remembering there actually is fun out there still. There are reasons to keep fighting.

Also, thanks to @ramblesanddragons I’ve still been watching Critical Role which has been providing enough laughs to get me through things. But I did go into hermit crafter mode again because it’s just enough to keep my hands and mind busy so I’m not worrying about other things but not so much that it’s another thing to think about. I’ve mostly done latch hook kits, plastic canvas kits, and felt embroidery.

(Old lady crafts - though, as mentioned at the beginning of this, there’s blah attached even to that now. It used to be more of an escape than it is now. It feels sort of pointless to work on them now. They’re kits so it’s not particularly creative. And what purpose do they serve once they’re done? I don’t even really want the finished products. And, just like the christmas ornament collection my mom started as something to be passed down to future generations, what will happen to them when I’m gone? I have no siblings. I have no kids and, as mentioned, am too old now. It all feels meaningless. I’m trying to have a better attitude about it like if it brings me joy, then there is meaning but that’s hard when you feel meaningless yourself. ANYWAY... Ha ha ha... trying to have better mindsets. Trying to keep up hope. Trying to focus on what’s good and what there is to be thankful for. And hey, I have some proof that the work I’ve put in on trying to be better at social situations is helping. I went to a local touristy shopping center recently and got a job offer at the second store I went into just by talking to the employees. I might take them up on it, though I’m not sure if I could handle retail again and, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, its that the advice that you take whatever you’re offered for a job isn’t actually that great. I’d rather take time to get the health stuff and everything else figured out and see what happens. If I take the job, it could be a sentence to another serious health flare up... But at least I know the option is there.)

#mo's ramblings and such #personal update #the man downstairs status report #mo's writing and such #the man downstairs #the man downstairs fic #the man downstairs au

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plussizeappreciationfics · 3 years

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Series: Just the assistant..?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Plus sized reader

Summary: [Y/N], Tom's personal assistant knows that she shouldn't have fallen in love with her employer but she just couldn't help herself. When she thinks that her biggest wish is about to come true, a third party arrives and makes her question whether she'd ever have a chance to escape her situation and simply be loved back by the person she loves the most...

Warning(s): adult language

Word count: 2,3k

Picture(s) found on: Pinterest/Google

CHAPTER TWO: The boundaries have been overstepped

“I’m fine, just make sure that the stylist closes the door behind her once you’re gone” [Y/N] spoke into her phone before letting out a soft cough, her throat sore and itchy. She heard a long sigh from the other end of the line and rolled her eyes.

“Tom, this isn’t the first time I’m sick. So what, I caught a cold a three days ago, it’s not the end of the world” she couldn’t see the actor’s frown increasing on his face as he listened to her weak voice explaining her situation.

Hours before, the assistant had been tossing and turning in her bed for quite a while, her body not being at peace because it longed to be held again by Tom. She couldn’t stop thinking about the dinner, how intense his stares has been and how he suddenly seemed so interested in her. [Y/N] was staring at the dark ceiling of her room and shook her head in contentment, having a feeling that something special would happen to her very soon.

He felt bad because he technically had been the reason his assistant had gotten sick in the first place; After their celebration dinner, Tom had ended up not being able to fall asleep, so he had called [Y/N] over and they ended up stargazing in his backyard, barely speaking a word with each other. They just sat next to each other, shoulders and arms touching and looked up the beautiful sky with a faint smile ghosting on their lips.

By the time [Y/N] had returned home, she was a coughing and sneezing mess and thus resulted in her having to take a week off because she had caught a nasty cold. She was on her 4th day off and pretty much enjoyed not having to do much physical activity besides feeding herself and taking her medication on time.

“Tom? Are you still there?” the assistant asked, wondering why he was being so silent. The actor cleared his throat and felt his stomach churn in discomfort, the intense need to take care of [Y/N] making it hard for him to focus on anything else. He couldn’t have a good day while knowing that she was in poor health and discomfort, he wished that he could heal her with a simple hug but that was obviously impossible.

Her thoughts had been interrupted by Tom calling her, nervously asking her if his call wasn’t a disturbance because the world was fast asleep. [Y/N] gently told him that she hadn’t been able to sleep either before happily accepting his invitation to stargaze in his backyard as he had one of the best views.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here…Just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. Anything. I-need you-I mean we need you strong and healthy again” Tom added a quick fake cough at the end as he had realized that he was starting to slip, he had been thinking about his assistant a lot the past few days and had found himself calling and texting her more than usual, she reciprocated to his mood and energy though. So he knew that he wasn’t bothering her at all.

Her stomach was fluttering in delight and she couldn’t help but smile and stare into space. Something is happening, Tom has been very attentive and kinda needy of my presence the last few days…Maybe he’s starting to feel the same way…Or maybe he’s going through something and is gathering the courage to finally share it with me…

“I’ll be fineeeeee, just don’t forget to tell me who your costars will be on the play. Bye” and with that, [Y/N] quickly hung up the phone before releasing the breath she didn’t know she was holding in. She had heard the slip up and forced herself to not read too much in between the lines.

“Anyhow” [Y/N] muttered to herself while getting comfortable under the warm sheets of her bed. She still had three days of peace and quiet and was enjoying them by getting as much sleep as possible and catching up with her reading list. Today she would’ve had a busy day ahead; Tom had 2 talk shows appearances.

She thankfully already had helped him arrange his wardrobe for the appearances through her phone and laptop, the stylist only had to come by and deliver the suits, which would be in an hour, but [Y/N] already had strictly (but kindly) instructed her to do her job and make sure that everything was alright with the clothes.

Tom had gotten a fresh trim the morning and had decided to let his long curls stay the way they were (because [Y/N] had voiced a nice compliment about the way it looked so the actor silently decided to grow it out a little more).

His driver was also on his way as he preferred to be driven to public events. Tom’s fans were known for blocking entries and streets once they’d know he’d be present somewhere. He loved his fans to death, but he knew that driving himself through a sea of frantic people (with his already bad eyesight) could cause a serious accident.

Everything that had to be done, was done. So, [Y/N] was able to relax and focus on getting her health back on track.

She took one final glance at her phone before locking the screen and placing it on her nightstand, feeling tired and sore. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep, with her special someone lingering in her mind…

“What are you doing here?” [Y/N] wondered in confusion upon seeing Tom welcome himself into her home, his jacket already removed along with the shoes. He then made his way over to the couch where she comfortably seated, her phone in her hand and looking through her mails. She silently was thankfully for the shower she had taken thirty minutes ago because she looked like her normal self and also smelled good.

“I am here to keep you company on your final days off as I know that you have missed my presence oh so much” the actor added a dramatic sigh while sitting next to his assistant and appreciating her beauty from up close. “Of course did I miss you, I can’t stand to be parted from you for so long, oh my dear Thomas” she reciprocated his dramatic and sarcastic tone, although she was being completely honest.

Three days later

“Then we shall enjoy each other’s company before the hectic and busy world seeks our attention again, M’lady” the actor spoke with a chuckle, the bright smile on his face still very much present. He was wearing a simple pair of blue pants and his famous dark blue sweater, he looked as scrumptious as always.

[Y/N] had to swallow hard as she forced her eyes to not scan him from head to toe, it would make it obvious that she was attracted to him, emotionally and physically. These next few hours certainly would be trick and tempting…

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Tom suggested, placed his arm around her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze for no reason at all (Well…we all know the reason, don’t we?). “Sure, you can pick one out!” [Y/N] spoke with excitement, euphoria pumping through her blood as she now knew that she was addicted to his touch. No one had ever made her feel so comfortable. She was a confident woman but to feel this extra layer of security and comfort just soothed her soul on the daily.

“We can watch whatever you want, darling” Tom mumbled, feeling a rush of contentment himself from purely having her this close to him. [Y/N] took the remote in her hand and opened the Netflix app, she looked through her daily suggestions and the top ten of most popular movies that were currently trending. Tom’s soft fingers were playing with the material of her shirt, reaching the hem of her sleeve and then smoothly drawing random patterns on her soft skin.

“How about Spirited Away? It’s been years since I’ve seen that masterpiece!” [Y/N] happily suggested, “Plus the movie also shows how love can be so strong, even when the two people barely acknowledge or talk about it. It’s all about the actions”. Hearing the short description had the actor instantly curious and so he agreed to watch it, despite never having seen it himself.

Both relaxed against the couch (yes, Tom’s arm still around [Y/N]’s shoulder, now having moved even closer so that their bodies were in constant contact), before the movie was playing on the screen. [Y/N] randomly explained certain scenes that had the actor a little bit confused and once he’d understand the reference or meaning behind it, he couldn’t help but lean in and whisper his thanks into her ear. To say that the tension was thick, sizzling yet light and delicate was an understatement.

[Y/N] slowly opened her eyes, letting out a tired sigh while slowly acknowledging the conscious world again. “Mhm” she mumbled, realizing that she had fallen asleep sometime during the movie. She was about to sit up straight when a strong, but gentle grip around her thick waist pulled her back.

Fuck.

She turned her head to look behind her and saw Tom sleeping peacefully, having lied down behind her at some point. He grumbled softly in his slumber before pulling her warm body closer to him again. [Y/N] felt like she was about to have a heart attack. But she still slowly repositioned herself in her previous position and stared at the TV screen.

She knew that they had overstepped a heavy boundary of their professional relationship. But did she feel bad? Nope. She felt so at ease, it was like his arms were made just for her. The current moment was one she had often dreamed about and to actually have the privilege to experience it was just indescribable.

“[Y/N]….” Tom whispered in his sleep, his voice low and rich with smoothness. He was literally trying to pull her into his body, his hands gently squeezing one of her stomach rolls. She felt his toned chest against her back along with the body heat he was radiating onto her, his head now nuzzling in the crook of her neck. When his soft breaths tickled her sensitive skin, [Y/N] thought that she was about to burst into flames. The acts were so intimate yet tender, everything she had always assumed about him now being true.

Tom Hiddleston was a clingy sleep cuddler.

“Fuck” she whispered again when he let out a content sigh, already having tears brim her eyes as this all felt like dream. The man she had been loving for three years now was finally reciprocating her love.

[Y/N] closed her eyes and enjoyed the amazing feeling of pure love and joy, she even reached her arm out and gently ran her hand through Tom’s soft curls and sighed in pure delight herself. She wished that she could stay like this forever, just the two of them.

“[Y/N]?”

Her eyes fluttered open and she (again) took acknowledgment of her surroundings. She still was lying on her couch, But Tom was now sitting next to her, along with two bags of takeout resting on her coffee table.

“Mhm? I’m awake” [Y/N] mumbled once her brain recognized the sound of Tom’s soft voice calling out for her.

“Are you hungry? I ordered Thai as it’s almost six in the evening and you haven’t eaten anything yet” his gaze was soft and kind. The assistant nodded her head and slowly sat up, silently comprehending that Tom had woken up after she had fallen back asleep again. She felt a pang of disappointment churn in her stomach once she also realized that he was pretending like nothing had happened.

“Thanks Tom, I must have fallen asleep. My bad”

But she also understood and accepted why.

“Nothing to be sorry about, I fell asleep myself and actually had a great rest. The past few days had been very stressful, and I had really needed an afternoon of peace and quiet. So thanks again, [Y/N], for letting me enjoy your company”.

Tom’s appreciation speech actually mended the disappointment she felt, she hadn’t known about the few sorrows and stressed he had had because he hadn’t voiced them to her at all, despite having texted and called her plenty of times throughout the day.

Wow…

“You’re welcome, Tom” was all she was able to respond before reaching for the takeout bags and looking at what deliciousness were awaiting her. She ignored his piercing stare, not knowing why she suddenly was the sole focus of his attention. It was hard doing so because she felt like his eyes were burning holes on the side of her face.

“You’re very beautiful, [Y/N].

She turned to him, a bright smile creeping upon her face as her heart skipped a beat. “Thank you Tom, you are handsome yourself”. He chuckled and finally looked down at his lap, a slight crimson shade appearing on his cheeks as he felt flustered and appreciated.

[Y/N] handed him the second bag of food before removing the items in her own bag.

“That’s amazing! Do you want me to book a table at your usual restaurant?” [Y/N] asked while feeling happy for Tom’s friends, she knew that he’d have a blast with the play and that sole thought left her smiling to herself while the actor continued to share the details of the upcoming play to her, still sitting very close to her and barely being able to keep her eyes off her beautiful face.

“By the way, I have great news”, [Y/N] hummed as in indication that she was listening while continuing to unpack her food. “Charlie and Zawe have been casted as the other two main characters in the play! We’ll be all going to dinner tomorrow!”

Tag list: @jamesbarnesappreciationclubub l @pleasantdreamqueen l @disneymarina l l @harleycativy l @sparklemichele l @melaninmarvel l @amethyst09 l @the-force-of-imagines l @bossyboyd03 l @pebblesz892 l @stars8melanin l @brittyevans l @toc1985 l @janeyboo l @badassbaker l @winters-beauty l @cannonindeez l @ilovefanfic86 l @adorablespecialsnowflakes l @brittanyovens l @kanupps06 l @jazmynejack l @thebookwormslytherin l @theunsweetenedtruth l @talannalew l @littlexmissxfandomxlover l @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes l @crimsonash330 l @booklover2929 l @aranelgrey l @panda-duuu l @thisismysecrethappyplace l @titty-teetee l @honey-anon l @princess-evans-addict l @hp-hogwartsexpress l @malindacath l @letsdisneythings l @scorpionchild81 l @shado-raven l @alisoncdariel l @plutoneu l @queenoftheworldisdead l @briannab1234l @miyaeadys-blog l @thenamelesscorpse2185 l @hihellogoodbyebruh l @nackrosor l @nerdgurl1985 l @2darkskinbeauty l @bugngiz l @african-melanin-goddess l @barnes-wilson-love l @ktiz90 l @let-the-love-in l @forlornfortitude l @robinredboob l @hopefuloperaangelnerd l @kola95 l @partypoison00 l @alwaysadreamingoptimist l @reniescarlett l @g0thicdream l @mayasopinions l @captaintightpants58 l @leillee l @kayleighsimone

-Emmanuelle 💋❤️

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston x plus size reader #plus size reader

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kyloswarstars · 3 years

Text

ROOMMATES • Part 2

Divergent • College AU • Eric x Reader

ROOMMATES masterlist 💫 Divergent masterlist

You escaped your current living situation by moving in with your friend Christina – and five other college students. Little did you know that one of them was the guy who was your ultimate pain in the neck since your first semester. Now, you had to find a way to not strangle him in his sleep out of pure frustration. Also, you had to find a way to get rid of those weird butterfly feelings for him that slowly grew in your stomach.

Words • 2k

The enemies to lovers story no one needed.

/////

The donut shop had air conditioning. It was pure heaven. A donut shop was heaven to you 365 days a year anyways. The AC, though… yes.

Christina chewed on her third blue glazed donut and refused to answer your questions. First, she refused. Then, she tried to talk her way out of it. In the end, she mentioned the friendship code, which applied in this case to Eric, and therefore she couldn’t say anything.

The confusion was real. You didn’t understand anything when most of the time you always understood everything. Following things you knew:

A) Eric always entangled you in debates. Sometimes it was a civil exchange, most of the times he got your blood boiling until you were close to lose your temper. This happened in class and other college surroundings, where you talked about a study related topic.

B) Until last week you always thought it was because of his ego and pure strive to demonstrate his intellect why he went for, at some point, the silliest of statements you had ever heard.

C) You also thought he did it just to piss you off.

D) Then last week happened. Then this afternoon happened and left you entirely confused.

E) Christina must know another reason why Eric constantly sought for an academic dispute. His statement from a couple hours ago, that there was ‚no reason‘, was highly suspicious. But Chris also didn’t tell you the reason.

F) That only led you to one, logical guess on what that unsaid reason could be.

„Is this about him having a long planned strategy to become the number one student of our year?“ Him seeing you as a serious competition to that title was the only reason you could think of. It wasn’t too odd of an assumption since after all those debates, silly statements or not, he was one of the smartest guys you had met so far.

Chris swallowed a bit of her new donut. Donut number four. „He isn’t in our year.“

You had sipped on your milkshake and instantly looked up. „What do you mean?“ Having to ask that question again frustrated you.

„That he’s way past us. He just finished his third year of medical school.“

„Excuse me?“ You got up from your seat and started wandering around the empty donut shop. „I’m surprised my body hasn’t taken the form of a question mark yet,“ you slowly talked yourself into a frenzy. „Christina, you’re telling me that Eric, who keeps pissing me off in two of my classes, for the last two years, isn’t even in my year? That he’s studying to become a doctor?“ Please behold me from chopping off a finger or something and him helping me.

She looked a little guilty for not giving you more information. Also a little amused.

„I am studying to become a damn mathematician. Why on earth would a medical student attend those classes?“

Christina had the audacity to laugh out loud. „I’m sorry, Y/N.“ Karma came around instantly and made her choke on a piece of donut for a few seconds. You hurried over to harshly pat her back until she coughed it out. „All I know is,“ she was still gasping for air, „he sometimes takes random classes for fun. Or for one of his big assignments.“

That was all. You wouldn’t get any further information. She crossed her arms and ignored all of your remaining questions. At least she left the donut shop with a stomachache and you knowing that Eric wasn’t even a math student.

/////

Once a week all roommates had at least one dinner together. ‚To strengthen the community‘ Uriah mumbled to you while you helped him turn the groceries, he and Chris had bought today, into a prober dish. Rice with a lot of veggies was the meal for tonight.

You were the last one to sit down and were surprised, and a little nervous, to find Eric sitting in the spot across from yours. He must’ve come home while you were still concentrating on not letting the veggies burn to death.

Christina hardly ate anything after her five donuts. Being a reasonable adult, you only had one donut at the shop.

„Who chose to put mushrooms in there?“ Eric didn’t look too glad when his fork discovered a tiny mushroom.

„Me,“ you stated, not afraid to have another silly debate. This time probably about how mushrooms shouldn’t be harvested because it takes away a food supply for deers.

„Next time just roast it short. Don’t turn it into these rubber–“

„Shut up, Eric.“ Four intervened. „Be glad someone made dinner.“

Exactly. You smiled at Four for his backup and continued eating. Even though you highly concentrated on the bowl in front of you, your eyes occasionally moved to Eric, to see if he had found another thing he disliked about the meal. And every single time his eyes met with yours.

This dinner wasn’t like all the previous ones you had here since moving in. It was unusually quiet. Everyone headed pretty fast into their rooms after finishing up and collectively cleaning the dishes.

Eric lingered around and was actually the last one to help you with putting back the plates and cutlery to where they belonged. You leaned to the countertop and tried not to stare too obviously when he stretched to place some glasses on the top shelf. He wore a t-shirt where he must’ve cut off the sleeves and the way his arm muscles moved, with every glass he put on that shelf, should be forbidden.

What? Oh man. That you caught yourself thinking that way, even though Eric didn’t notice it because he was still occupied with the dishes, made you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. You hid your hands in your pockets to act casual. That’s when you noticed one of the many papers that were spread in nearly every clothing pocket and backpack of yours.

One of the many habits – coping mechanisms, actually – you had, was to write down unsolved problems in mathematics and brood over them whenever your brain was close to panic itself into a breakdown. To sit down and concentrate on a problem and search for a possibility to solve it, was what got you to study the most hated subject in the first place.

You pulled the paper out and checked what it referred to. The Riemann zeta function.

You tried to recall if any of the many debates with Eric ever had been about mathematics. They had never been about math at all you realised. The classes he had gone to were the social orientated ones. Those, where you discussed scenarios and ways on how to solve problems with a mathematical solution. Or at least help out along the way. And the debates were mostly about the logical or philosophic aspects. The reason why it had always been so easy for Eric to pull you into those discussions was because you didn’t study mathematics just for the sake of it. You didn’t want to become only a professor to teach others about it. You wanted to help people with all the abilities math provided. For example the study you worked on right now: a mathematical model to predict the success of immunotherapy for patients with cancer.

This is perfect.

There was no way Eric could enter a serious debate about the zeta function and not show that he studied something completely different. With a grin on your lips you cleared your throat to get his attention. Eric crossed his arms as he turned to you.

The game is on.

„Since you know everything better than me, and us living under the same roof now, I was wondering if you would take a look at some equations. I’m kinda stuck.“

Something in his face changed but he still said: „Sure.“

That’s a mistake, my friend. You handed him the paper, which he had to unfold his arms for again to take it. Those arms were bigger than the pile of books next to your mattress. Why did you never notice his muscles before? And why did you never notice that sharp jawline?

The concentration on his face didn’t give away that he had absolutely no clue what was on that paper. Time did. A minute or two went by without him looking up or saying a word. „That seems like a serious problem. I’m passing.“

„What are you studying again?“ Your voice as innocent as you could manage it to be.

„Why would you ask?“ He played it off. The crooked smile on his lips let you know he had a feeling for where this conversation would go, though.

„Because someone studying mathematics, like I do, would recognise the famous zeta function whose solution would earn you a reward of one million dollars.“

„I never said I study mathematics, Y/N.“ Eric grinned like you were the fool here. Like you had overseen something big. Like your little trap hadn’t worked.

„But you attend four full semesters of classes that aren’t necessary? Are you having such a big problem with me that you just can’t stay away?“ His stupid grin made it worse. That rage came rushing in because those ludicrous disputes sometimes had you thinking you were a complete idiot. „I mean no normal person would take those two extra classes for four solid semesters on top of damn medical classes. What’s wrong with you?“

„I like the extra knowledge.“ He simply stated, snapped a bottle of water from the countertop and slowly made his way down the hallway to his room. „And debating with you.“

/////

For your own wellbeing, and not to flip every time you thought about Eric being the biggest prick on this earth, you decided he was just a little sadist. Who had probably his only fun by infuriating you. You were glad to know about that hobby of his now and could focus on the more important things in life until next semester.

He just didn’t make it easy at all. Living under the same roof had diverted the debates from class to the dining table. Plus it had added a lot of other intentional disturbance on his part.

For a while you tried to just ignore it because he was a sadist, as you declared. On the other hand he exactly got what he had aimed at. Your anger.

„Eric,“ you shouted at the wall, knowing very well that he could hear you because you heard perfectly fine what kind of little movie he was watching. It paused for a few seconds and you breathed out in relief. Then it started again. So you raised your voice another time. „Use damn headphones!“

The only thing that happened was Uriah peeking his head in your room, with some incredibly high raised eyebrows. „Are you okay?“

„I am not.“ You buried your face in your hands. „Eric is watching porn and I can’t concentrate,“ you stated in despair.

„I’ll handle it,“ he smiled and was fast to knock at Eric’s door and enter his room after a ‚come in‘. They discussed for a while and Uriah gave you a thumbs up as he passed your room on his way back to the kitchen. Problem solved? Sounded like it. No noise from the other side of the room anymore.

The newest data had come in for the study this morning and you didn’t get anywhere yet. You just hadn’t been able to because of… picturing Eric watching porn. Ban it from your consciousness. With another deep breath, you started working in the newest data and focus only on your task. And it worked for a couple of minutes. Until Eric decided not to use headphones anymore and his porn noises echoed through the wall again.

I will strangle him in his sleep one night.

/////

A/N • I'm enjoying this way too much so there will soon be another update. probably next weekend. ok bye

Taglist • @longlostinanotherworld

Wanna get tagged too for future updates? Lemme know 🖤

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tngrace · 3 years

Text

Hoodies are for Comfort

Based off the promo for 2.08 & helped along by @moviegeek03 . Girl your support means everything & I hope this fic delivers everything you want

GTHB Masterlist; Read on A03

Carlos was currently holding his boyfriend on the couch with the TV playing quietly in the background. TK was currently wearing his favorite grey hoodie and over top of that was Carlos’s zip-up APD hoodie with sweats and two pairs of socks. TK always insisted he likes Carlos’s hoodies better because they always provided more comfort. So Carlos had done his best to find one that would fit over the one TK was currently wearing, even though his hoodies usually swallowed TK whole. TK also had every blanket from the living room laid over him, and he was still shivering a little. Carlos hated it; he just wanted to warm TK up.

“Hey, you still awake?” he murmurs as he cards a hand through TK’s hair being as careful as possible of the stitches in the back of his head.

"Mmmm," TK hums softly as he leans back on Carlos more.

"Mmm is not good enough," Carlos teases as he kisses the back of TK's neck.

"Babe," TK whines softly as he burrows further in the covers and hoodies.

"I know. I'm sorry. But I can't let you sleep yet. That's what we promised the doctor when he released you. Otherwise you'd still be there."

"I know," TK sighs. "But I just wanna sleep and it's too cold."

Carlos runs a hand to TK's forehead. "You're pretty warm mi amor." Hr reaches for the thermometer on the side table beside him. He holds it to TK's ear and watches the numbers rise filling him with more relief. "You're right below normal," Carlos tells him, showing him the thermometer.

TK nods as he relaxes more into Carlos. "Can probably sleep for a little bit," TK murmurs.

Carlos let's out a soft sigh. "Ok short nap. I'm waking you in an hour," he says as TK gets comfy, being careful of the bruises and stitches. Carlos tucks the blankets around him more, and sets an alarm to wake TK in an hour. He softly keeps his hand moving through TK's hair as TK falls right to sleep.

Carlos softly kisses his head as he thinks back over the most stressful twenty-four hours of his life.

When he'd gotten the call from Owen that the entire paramedic team was not responding and appeared off grid going on an hour and half, he'd felt worried. When he'd broken away from his dad with the excuse of a case even though he'd just clocked out, he thought they'd find them quickly. Only he discovered the empty parking garage, and TK wasn't answering his calls, texts or SOS messages.

They reported it like they were supposed to, Grace having already alerted her supervisors the paramedics weren't responding. His entire precinct was on the case, even some of his off duty friends coming in to help. The 126 team still descended on the parking garage as one unit, but split off into pairs to looks for their missing members not wanting to be left out of the search for their family. Judd declared he was going with Carlos, having taken on the captain role for Owen who was equally distressed he couldn't reach his son. Paul took Owen leaving Marjan and Mateo to team up.

Carlos nods knowing Judd is right, so they stop for coffee and a sandwich. Judd makes the comment trying to fill the silence and distract Carlos about wrapping TK in bubble wrap and never letting him leave the station again, and Carlos can't help but agree. He thought the medic job would be safer and he wouldn't have to worry about grey hair just yet. But TK, as always, is proving him wrong. "Hey, isn't your dad a Ranger?" Judd asks.

After three hours of looking and tracing every step they could think of with no luck, Carlos was at his wits in. Judd was making him take a coffee break, despite his instance to keep going. "Carlos, you're not gonna be any good to him if you don't take a minute for yourself. Believe me I wanna find him just as bad, but he's gonna need you in top shape."

"Yea. Why?" Carlos asks confused at the change in direction of conversation.

"Just thinking he might have some pull somewhere we could use."

Carlos nods as he thinks it over. It doesn't take him long and he's pulling out his phone making the call. He gives his dad the short version and agrees to wait for him at the coffee shop. "He doesn't know about us," Carlos tells Judd quietly not meeting his eyes.

"I know. TK told me. I won't tell your secret Reyes, but I hate to be the one to break it to ya. If your dad is anywhere as smart as I image he is, he's going to figure it out. You're not gonna be able to hide that emotion," Judd says gesturing to his face.

Carlos nods knowing Judd is right. They sit in silence for a few more minutes before he sees his dad's truck pull up behind Judd's. "Could you give me a minute with him? I'll tell him, then we can go."

"Course," Judd nods as he heads out to his truck, nodding at Carlos's dad as he goes. Carlos tells his dad the truth, that one of the missing paramedics is his boyfriend and that he'll explain more on that later, before he tells his dad all the case facts they know. "We'll find him," Gabriel says squeezing Carlos's shoulder. Carlos does his best to hold back the tears, but one does escape.

They leave the little coffee shop in Gabriel's truck as Gabriel makes some calls. As they drive around Carlos explains things to his dad, Judd having decided to follow them so Carlos could speak freely. He hates the pained look on his dad's face when he explains why he lied and how long he and TK had been a couple, but thankfully he doesn't press Carlos for more than he's willing to share just yet.

It takes another 2 hours before TK's phone location comes back on; it takes another 30 minutes for them to get to the location. Carlos and his dad go in guns drawn not waiting for backup having gotten a text Nancy covertly sent from TK's phone because his was the only one not busted. The rest of the 126 arrive not long after them. Tommy and Nancy appear unhurt, but shook up and terrified. When Nancy told Carlos that TK was in the freezer, he panicked. He opened the door and saw TK slumped against the wall passed out with blood on the back of his head. Thankfully he hadn't been in there too long Tommy informed them, but long enough his body temperature had dropped, and he had stopped shaking despite the cold.

Gabriel shooed Carlos into the back of the ambulance with the promise to talk to Andrea for him and to check on them soon. "Thanks Dad" Carlos says trying to hold back his tears as he climbed in the back with his boy. It took several hours in the ER for TK to get stitched up from being pistol whipped Carlos learned, and for his temperature to come up enough for them to be released. He had a concussion, six stitches and several bruises on top of almost severe hypothermia. They're discharged about eight am with strict instructions to take it easy and return if TK's symptoms worsen.

Carlos let's out another soft sigh as he kisses the top of TK's head glad his boy is safe in his arms once more. Today, well yesterday at this point, had been one of the scariest of his life. He didn't know what he'd do if he ever really lost TK. He knows he needs to call his parents too; needs to properly talk to them about the new bomb he just dropped on them, but he can't bring himself to do it just yet. He feels emotionally drained, but he can't sleep either, fearing something will happen to TK while he's asleep.

"You're thinking too much," he hears murmured as TK tries to burrow closer. Even though his temperature is almost back to normal, he can't shake the cold feeling.

"Sorry cariño," Carlos whispers as he adjusts to TK's wiggling. He tucks the blankets around him more, and before he can ask TK if he's ok, there is a knock at his door making him furrow his brow. He silences his alarm to wake TK, even though TK woke on his own, thankfully.

"Who the?" He questions not happy about the interruption.

"Probably dad," TK sighs knowing Owen has asked for hourly updates, which he thought was a little ridiculous. He knows his dad wants to talk about his and his mom's previous behavior, and try to make amends, but TK just isn't ready to deal with his parents’ problems yet.

Carlos rearranges TK on the couch before he goes to open the door. Carlos is extremely shocked when he opens it to see his parents standing there. Gabriel is holding a crock pot that Carlos is almost positive is full by the smell, and Andrea is holding a rather large bag.

"Mamì? Dad?" Carlos greets as he opens the door wider at Andrea's expectant look.

"Carlitos," she smiles patting his cheek as she walks by.

"Don't try and argue with her mijo," Gabriel says heading for the kitchen when he sees the argument forming on the tip of Carlos’s tongue.

"Don't you dare," Andrea says to TK when she sees him trying to sit up and uncover. "I hear you've had a rather rough day TK. So please stay put," she says as Carlos stares on with the most adorably confused face.

She turns to her son next, "Well Carlitos not even a hug again?" She questions with a grin reminding them of the farmer's market day.

"Mamì," he groans but he does hug her. "What are you doing here?" He finally asks.

"Manners mijo! I raised you better than that," she scolds making TK giggle a little as Carlos blushes. He does finally make his way back to the couch to help TK prop up more as Andrea pushes him that way. He sits beside him, TK understanding Carlos is not comfortable with a lap full of boyfriend in front of his parents.

"Your dad explained everything that happened," Andrea starts as Gabriel joins them, and they finally sit across from the boys. "So I made your favorite Chile Verde for you two and brought a surprise," she says with a large grin as she finally digs into the bag she carried in.

"You really didn't have to go through all this trouble mam," TK says as Andrea starts pulling out a gorgeous quilt. He sees Carlos's eyes go wide and is slightly confused.

"Nonsense," Andrea says carrying the quilt over to the couch. “And you don’t have to ‘mam’ me even though it’s sweet,” she grins at him. Carlos still hasn't said anything, and it's really stressing TK out. "Besides I wanted to. Chile Verde is Carlos's favorite soup, and it will warm you right up. This will too," she says tucking the quilt around TK atop his mound of blankets. "This was Carlos's favorite, especially when he was sick. His Abuela made it when Gabriel and I got married. Carlos always told me he wanted it when he was older. His sisters all have one picked out as well, and I figured now would be a good time to give it to him."

"Mamì," Carlos finally chokes out his eyes filled with tears. TK sneaks a hand out from under all the blankets and lays it on Carlos's knee giving it a squeeze.

Andrea moves over and cups Carlos's cheek before kissing his forehead. "Shhh mijo," she whispers as she wipes his tears, hearing everything he can't say just yet. "We love you, and that's all that needs to be said right now," she whispers hearing her husband agree.

Carlos nods and let’s his mama hug him tight. He feels TK squeezing his knee. “Gracìas Mamì,” he murmurs as she moves back to sit by Gabriel.

They stay a little longer, getting to know TK, which helps Carlos keep him awake a while longer. The soup is absolutely delicious, and TK praises Andrea for passing her culinary skills on to Carlos. When they see both boys on the verge of crashing from exhaustion, they decide to head back to the ranch. Andrea makes them promise to come out for Sunday dinner soon as well as call if they were to need anything in the coming days. Carlos promises they will, and promises to have dinner even sooner with just his parents so they can talk like they need to.

Once he sees them out, he helps TK up off the couch to go to bed. TK insists on taking the quilt because it is super warm and will look amazing on their bed. They curl up together, TK finally feeling warm and happy and Carlos feeling exhausted enough to sleep. Things might not always be perfect, but they'll always have each other and their family.

#911 lone star #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #gthb #good things happen bingo #writers life

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